A Tall Tail
by SpartanGuard
Summary: Killian thought he'd met his demise when Ursula tossed him carelessly into the water. But he ended up finding out more about himself—and the mermaids he had hoped to avoid, not join—than ever before. (Canon divergent from 4x15-ish.)
1. Transformation

_It wasn't uncommon to hear of a mermaid falling for a human. A lucky few were able to find a way to be with their loves, though far more stories ended in tragedy._

_But a merman? They were rarely known for even coming to the surface, let alone interacting with its inhabitants._

_It happened once, though. A merman with dark hair and eyes the colour of the ocean caught sight of a woman who also had the sea in her eyes, and it was love at first sight._

_He made a deal with a sea witch, who granted him the ability to walk on land...but only for 15 years. He intended to make the most of them though, and immediately found the woman and asked for her hand._

_They lived in bliss, and welcomed two sons into the world who also had the ocean in their eyes. Their seaside home was full of love and happiness._

_All too soon, though, the 15 years were up, and the merman was called back to the sea. He begged the witch to give him more time with his family. She heard his pleas and presented him a knife; if he could kill his wife, he could stay with his sons. Otherwise, he would perish._

_With a heavy heart, he went home to spend his final evening with his family. Once the morning arrived, he disappeared into the sea, never to be seen or heard from again, leaving his wife and sons heartbroken. _

_The sea witch, in disguise, told the family that he was a fugitive and ran away to escape the law. The family never learned of his deal, his fate...or even his past._

* * *

"Have a nice swim, Captain."

The sea witch's words jarred him from unconsciousness, but they were the last thing he heard before he felt the cold smack of the water.

And it hurt. Bloody hell, did it hurt. He must have landed feet-first, because he felt the full sting of the impact in his legs.

_What a cruel irony_, he thought; _I've spent my whole life surviving on the sea, and the sea is where I shall perish_. It was probably a fitting end for the pirate captain, but Killian had so much he wanted to live for now.

He wanted to fight the water that was slowly encroaching on his lungs, burning, but the pain in his lower half was too much to bear. So he slowly sunk down into the grey depths of the harbor, waiting for Davy Jones to claim him.

He conjured the image of Emma in his mind, hoping beyond hope that he could spend his last moments thinking on the woman who had become his light. He'd never be able to tell her just how much she meant to him, but maybe if he focused on her, it would ease the pain of dying.

Slowly, the agony in his legs went away, and the burning in his lungs ceased. _This is it. I love you, Emma._

Until he realized he was breathing.

Underwater.

He opened his eyes—he hadn't even realized he was squinting them shut—and tried to take stock of the situation.

He was not only breathing, but it felt like he was standing, even though he was clearly floating. It should have been impossible, but it somehow felt completely normal.

He could only think of a few creatures he'd encountered that could accomplish the feat he was pulling off now. Tentatively, he glanced down.

He still wore his leather jacket, vest, and button-up shirt, and his hook and brace were still attached to his left arm.

But where his legs should have been was a tail. _A bloody tail?_

It looked exactly the same as the lower half of any mermaid he'd ever encountered: long, tapered, covered in scales, and ending in a fish-like, two-pronged fin. This one in particular was golden in colour, with bright blue undertones; despite his shock at seeing it, Killian was rather impressed.

But admiration quickly turned to anger. Had he been cursed? Given his history with Ursula, he wouldn't put it past her, though he couldn't fathom why she'd condemn him to _this _rather than outright kill him.

He needed to find Swan. But first, he needed to reach the surface.

Cautiously, he tried to move his new appendage. Just a quick flip back of his fin shot him straight up, much faster than he anticipated.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, bubbles escaping his mouth. He clamped his hand over his mouth in shock that he was able to speak, but that movement made it apparent that while pirates and leather mixed very well, there was a reason you never saw a merman in a coat: clothes were awfully cumbersome under water. As long as he was water-bound, he'd have to ditch the coat, and then some.

Moving his tail much slower this time (in part to get used to the motion), he made his way to the surface, working his jacket off at the same time. He was worried he'd be cold in the frigid Maine water without it, but it didn't seem to affect him.

It didn't take long to break through, and he carefully used his arms to help him tread water as he scanned the scene to get his bearings. He was still near the _Jolly Roger_ (_his Jolly Roger_, gods be good), but Ursula was nowhere to be seen.

He briefly contemplated trying to climb up to the deck of the ship, but with only one hand and no legs, that seemed too daunting a task to attempt. So he instead made his way over to a little-used dock and pulled himself up to take a seat, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he settled. Out of the water, his tail seemed to shine even brighter, despite the overcast, sunless sky. _At least I'm still devilishly handsome_, he smirked to himself, albeit halfheartedly.

He then remembered that he had once seen a mermaid gain human legs simply by smacking her tail against the ground, so he decided to give it a shot. Twisting so his body was parallel with the edges of the dock, he lifted his fin and smacked it down as hard as he could. The deck rattled and a jolt of pain ran all the way up through his spine...but no change. He tried a few more times, but the result was the same. He lied back and sighed in defeat. _Now what?_

_The talking phone!_ He sat straight up when he remembered he had the device in his jacket. He frantically rummaged through the very wet pockets until he found it. Wiping off the excess, water, he began pressing the button combination he had memorized to dial Emma. But nothing happened; nothing was on the screen, and no amount of pressure on the keys elicited a response. _Dammit_; the plunge must have disabled it. _Wonderful_.

_Alright, I'll have to search for help via water_. Odd that for so long, he felt most at home at sea, yet now the thought was somewhat terrifying. (_You know your home isn't on the water anymore, mate_, he told himself.)

He deftly worked open the buttons on his vest and shirt with his right hand, then stripped off the wet materials—he wasn't going to let those clingy shirts slow him down. Again, he braced himself for the chill that was sure to hit his now-bare chest, but it never came. _I guess that's one perk_. Out of habit, he carefully folded his clothes and set them in a neat pile on the dock. Glancing at his hook, he thought about taking the brace off, lest it too weigh him down, but decided to leave it on. He didn't need to be down any more appendages.

He swung his tail out so it hung over the edge of dock, and gripped the edge, preparing to dive in. Before he did, he caught a glance at his reflection in the water. The blue highlights in his fin matched his eyes perfectly, and the gold was a seemingly natural complement to his skin tone. His dark hair hung wet against his forehead, save for where he'd pushed it back. Now that he'd ditched his clothes, the muscles in his chest and arms were on full display. And he smiled to see that his tattoos were still in place.

He was a perfect merman specimen. Almost as if..._almost as if I was born to be one_.

He shook his head, as if to get rid of that thought. _Time to find Swan_. He took a deep breath (out of habit, he supposed), hunched back to prep, and then launched his lean form into the murky water.

* * *

"Is it done?"

"I threw him in the harbor and he never surfaced. So I'd say so."

"Excellent work, Ursula. Let's continue, shall we?"

The Dark One was quickly enveloped in a deep purple smoke, which dissipated as fast as it appeared, revealing Killian's form in his place.

"You're getting too good at that, Rumple."

"I know, love," he responded in Killian's voice.


	2. Sleeping with Fish

As much as he was coming to call Storybrooke home, the seaside village was not on his good side right now.

Most port towns in the Enchanted Forest and elsewhere were built around the water, with the docks being a main thoroughfare and the focus of most commercial endeavours. With people coming and going at all hours of the day or night, it wouldn't have been hard to find a preferred passerby to ask for assistance.

But Storybrooke, of course, was created by a curse cast by someone with little if any knowledge of life on the water. Here, the docks were somewhat of an afterthought, and the commercial center was barely within view of the coast.

His first goal had been to find someone—anyone—at the docks, but not a soul was around. It was getting later in the day, so all fishing activities were long completed, and it was still too early in the year for leisurely boat rides.

_Ok, mate, think_. He could vaguely recall seeing a private dock within view of Granny's front door, and if he had any chance of finding someone he trusted, it would be there.

One of the perks to this transformation, in addition to protection from the cold, was that he could move—fast. What would normally be a 15-minute walk became a two-minute swim.

While he certainly missed his legs, he was surprised at how quickly he had become comfortable with his tail. Swimming felt like second nature now—as if he'd been swimming this way his entire life.

He took care to remain underwater as much as possible while traveling, to avoid any undue attention. It made it hard to navigate, though; his vision underwater was now just as sharp as above, but there was a severe lack of familiar landmarks with which to gauge his travels.

He finally saw what he identified as a small set of dock supports coming into sight ahead. Slowly, he broke the surface with only his head to survey the scene. Sure enough, the neon lights of Granny's were across the street, though slightly obscured by trees. If he could prop himself up on the dock, he might have a decent view.

He swam around to the end and pulled himself up—the dock barely sat above water level, so he was able to rest on his forearms while still keeping his tail submerged. _Tail_; he was still getting used to saying that.

From this vantage point, he had a clear view of the front door and patio, but little around it. Patrons were milling in and out; it looked to be dinner time, and he could just make out the diner's namesake running orders. His stomach grumbled, and he realized he hadn't eaten since lunch time; what he wouldn't give for a grilled cheese.

He was toying with the charms on his necklace (he had to keep _some _of his traditional style, after all), when a familiar-sounding engine rumbled to a halt just out of view—_Is that...?_ His question was answered seconds later when Emma and David came into sight. Relief flooded him.

Emma had a look of concern on her face and was making a call, brow knit. He sincerely hoped she wasn't trying to call his water-logged phone and that he wasn't the cause of her worry. He wished more than anything in that moment to be by her side to comfort her; it ached through his body.

Just when he was about to call out to them, he was left speechless as Ursula also made her way into the diner with that fur fiend Cruella, just behind Swan and her father. _Bloody witch_. There was no way he could reach Emma without drawing Ursula's attention, and they were probably all better off if the sea witch thought he was out of the picture. He'd just have to wait for the Charmings to leave.

He sighed, and tried to relax where he was, but anxiety was starting to seep in. What if he couldn't contact Emma? Would she think he abandoned her, after he swore he wouldn't? Why was it so important for him to be eliminated by the so-called Queens of Darkness?

His mind wandered to the "how" and "why" of the situation, but he still didn't have any answers. If it was a curse, a motive for it escaped him. Perhaps it was some kind of unrelated, poorly timed karmic punishment? He didn't have the greatest history with merpeople, especially Ariel.

Was he condemned to spend the rest of his days under the water? That thought scared him more than any other.

Until he saw a familiar—_very_ familiar—figure approach Granny's...his own. The posture was rigid and every step was calculated, but this person was disguised as Killian, from tip to toe. Once inside, whoever it was took a seat across from David in a booth by the front window. _Emma; they're after Emma_. The realization sent a fear-filled chill down his spine, and he could feel the water ripple around him as if it was reacting, too.

He knew dark magic wielders who used disguises quite easily—Cora came to mind first. Was Regina taking his form? Perhaps she was more entrenched with these villains than they thought.

Though his arms began to ache against the hard wood of the dock, he was glued in place. He looked on as Emma joined them in the booth, but he was too far away to tell if she knew what was going on. When the Dark One was controlling him via his heart, she saw right through it; _please, Emma__—see that it's not me_. His hand instinctively moved to the spot on his chest over his heart, feeling the slight outline of the tattoo that now covered it.

A short while later, David emerged and got in his truck, too fast for Killian to shout for him. _Dammit_. This was the point in the night where Emma usually said good night in front of his room, but each second she dallied was a second she wasn't safe, and he could do nothing to protect her from here.

Finally, she came banging through the front door. He took his opportunity and shouted for her. "Emma!" But, of course, David started the truck just then and drowned him out. He watched as they pulled away in the direction of the loft. _Damn it all to hell_. He leaned away from the dock and let himself fall back into the water.

He floated just under the surface, thinking. He'd blown that chance. At least he knew she'd be safe at home, but he didn't know whether or not to be concerned with the fact that Emma wasn't likely worried about his whereabouts-she certainly had enough on her plate, but _that wasn't him_. And the deceiver would have hell to pay once Killian had his legs back. But it looked like tonight would be spent in the sea.

Food came to mind, but then he realized he had no idea what merpeople ate; he'd tried to minimize his encounters with them in Neverland, as that particular breed was rather nasty. He did still have his hook, and thought about fishing, but something about that seemed cannibalistic.

Fatigue was threatening to catch up to him, so he just decided to find somewhere safe to rest for the night. His best bet would be under water, he knew, but the thought made him uneasy. Then he remembered the secluded cove on the other side of town.

Nightfall meant he could swim with his head above water, making it much easier to find where he was going, and he found the moonlit lagoon in no time.

Out of curiosity, he decided to take advantage of the darkness to see what he could really do with his new body. He dove down, showily flipping his fin as he went. When he got about 30 feet under the surface, he righted himself and looked up. The near-full moon cut a beam of light through the water, rippling on his face. Using what energy he had, he powered his lower half back and forth, moving up faster than he thought possible. The speed launched him out of the water a good 10 feet in the air; _This must be what flying feels like_. He instinctively dove into the water once he came back down, and continued to try different flips and jumps.

It was exhilarating. He wondered if he had ever felt so alive, and an earlier thought entered his mind: what if it wasn't a curse, and he was meant for this?

_You belong with Emma_, his gut told him, and his gut was usually right. But at least, as long as he was constricted to this form, he could have a bit of fun.

A few large rocks met to make a cave-like structure at the far end of the cove; it would have to do for a room for the night. He propped his upper half up against the rock, and noted that he'd slept in far less comfortable positions.

Dawn woke him before he even realized he had fallen asleep. Apparently, swimming was a draining task, even for someone who was half fish. He stretched to attempt to remove the ache in his back; he'd grown far too used to a plush mattress every night. _Let's figure out how to get back to that_.

Judging by the sun's position, the fishermen would likely already be at sea; with any luck, they'd all be out already and he wouldn't need to avoid the boats on his way in.

He made it into the harbor without issue, and couldn't help but smile when he saw his _Jolly Roger_ still at dock. However, that was the only thing he saw at dock: with all the boats out, save for a couple, no one was to be found. At least, no one he knew well enough to trust-though he gave it serious thought when he saw Leroy make way to his small power boat. _He'd certainly get the word spread_.

Without anything else to do, he swam over to the Roger. Just being in her presence somehow calmed him. He ran his hands over the smooth enchanted wood of her hull..._enchanted_. Didn't mermaids communicate through enchanted shells?

He didn't waste a minute and dove down the bottom the harbor, looking for something, anything resembling a shell. There were plenty of stones, and a handful of broken bottles (he may have had something to do with a few of those), but nothing shell-like yet.

Granted, he didn't know what to do once he found a shell, but it was really the only option he had. He continued to scour the bottom searching for anything that might work.

But all of a sudden a sharp pain hit the back of his head, and the already-murky world went black.

* * *

_Note: While most chapters will be from Killian's point of view, a few__—including the next__—will be from other characters'; mainly Emma._

**_Thanks for reading!_**


	3. Something Isn't Right

"Killian, please, answer your phone. I'm worried." Emma wasn't going to let herself freak out, but she was getting dangerously close. He'd told her was going to confront Ursula today, to work out their issues, but that was the last she'd heard from him—yet Ursula had followed them into Granny's with Cruella, seemingly unscathed.

And now his phone was going straight to voicemail. Either he'd let the battery die on it, or...she hated to think what an alternative might be.

"Emma, I'm sure he's fine. He's probably just up in his room." Her dad was trying his damnedest to calm her down, but she could tell he was a bit nervous, too.

She took a deep breath, to see if that might quell the rising panic. It didn't. "Ok. I'm going to go up and check."

She slid out of their booth at Granny's and made her way to the back, taking the stairs two at a time. Almost running the all-too-familiar path to his room, she unceremoniously banged on the door as soon as she reached it.

"Killian? Are you in there?"

Silence. So she tried again.

"Killian? Hey, anyone home?"

Still nothing, so she tried the door. Locked. _Dammit_. She knew she could bug Granny for the key, but it was dinner rush so she'd let it be. She wasn't a former thief for nothing, so she dug out her lock picks.

A part of her felt some remorse for invading his privacy this way—especially after the understanding they came to last week—but she had to make sure he was fine. The lock wasn't particularly sophisticated, and she heard the click after a few tries.

She slowly opened the door and began scanning the room. Her heart fell to her feet when she saw the empty bed; it had been haphazardly made, but it was clear no one had been in it since last night. She glanced on his nightstand for his phone, hoping he'd just forgotten it, but it was nowhere to be seen either. A poke into the bathroom revealed that it, too, was empty.

Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

_David: He's here_

_Oh thank God_. She quickly left the room and practically ran down to the diner, where Killian was seated across from her father.

"Where have you been?" She tried to sound angry, but it was obvious she'd been worried.

"Sorry, love; the _Jolly Roger_ is back, so I was making sure she was in good order." Her bullshit detector didn't go off, but something wasn't quite right. _How does a boat just poof back?_

"It's back? How?"

"Ursula managed to bring it back. We settled our differences, and she was able to summon it as something of a peace offering." His posture seemed too rigid. And normally, he'd be stealing fries off her plate.

She slid into the booth next to him, blocking him in on purpose. "What about your phone?" She'd get to the bottom of this; an alarm bell was ringing, but she wasn't sure what caused it.

"The battery died. Sorry."

She suddenly recalled the day six weeks ago when he came in and offered her rum out of a teacup. She reached over to his chest, to make sure his heart was where it was supposed to be; the familiar _thump-thump_ told her it was.

_He's probably still processing whatever happened with Ursula_, she told herself. _It's fine and he's here_. With how crazy her superpower had been acting, it was bound to eventually ring false on him, too.

"Ok, just make sure you charge it. With all these villains around, you can't be too sure."

He reached for her hand with his, squeezing it gently. "Aye, love, I will; you needn't worry."

She laughed at that. "Yeah, I've heard that one before." She smiled and gave him a playful shove, before diving back into her dinner. He responded with a hesitant smile; _I guess he doesn't find that as funny as I do_.

The rest of the meal went on relatively normal, and she was able to relax. She invited Killian to the loft for some Netflix, but he declined. "The excitement of the day has me a bit worn down; I think I'll retire for the evening."

"Ok. At least let me walk you upstairs."

"I'd be delighted," he replied with a soft smile.

Once at the room, she opened the still-unlocked door. "Sorry; I kind of freaked out earlier and maybe picked your lock to see if you were here." She stared at the floor for a second before sheepishly glancing up.

"No harm done, love. I appreciate the concern."

"Alright, sleep tight." She gently dragged him in by the lapels for a good night smooch.

Oddly, he hesitated before responding, and cut the kiss off a little earlier than usual.

Her brow furrowed, and those alarm bells began to clang again. _That's not like him._ "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just tired. See you tomorrow, Swan."

She could see the fatigue in his eyes after he left the embrace, and realized that she herself was probably just as worn out. But something still didn't set right. "Good night."

* * *

After watching her head downstairs and out the door, he closed the door behind him and shed his disguise. The pirate's quarters were a bit spartan, but it would be better than sleeping in Cruella's car...again.

_Speaking of_. His phone went off, showing the woman's name on the screen.

"Yes, dearie?"

"How did it go? Did you enjoy being tall?"

He ignored the slight. "She believed it, and that's all that matters."

Ursula chimed in. "So what's next?"

"Tomorrow, I break that trust."

Rumplestiltskin was quite looking forward to the next day.

* * *

The next morning, she left at her usual time to head for the station. Their new routine was one of her favorite parts of the day—she loved seeing him waiting for her by the Bug with coffee.

But when she got down to the street, he wasn't there. Now she knew something was wrong.

As if on cue with her sudden jolt of concern, a cold gust of wind blew in, forcing her to pull her jacket close. _Could really use some hot coffee now_, she thought as she started moving quicker.

When she got to the library, the lights were already on. _Maybe he came straight here today?_ She felt a little bad because she hadn't asked how his and Belle's research on the Sorcerer's hat was going in a while, so maybe they had decided to get an early start.

She quietly opened the door and stepping in, taking equal care in closing it behind her. The murmur of voices came from the next room over, so she quietly made her way over.

"Killian, what are you—" she heard Belle say as she came through the entryway, before Belle abruptly stopped and looked towards Emma, horrified. Emma didn't know what to make of what she saw.

Killian basically had Belle pinned up against the stacks, with his hand under her chin, leaning in rather intimately. He followed Belle's change of focus, immediately recoiling upon seeing Emma, like a puppy who'd been caught with a shoe.

"What is going on here?" Emma managed to stammer out. She could feel tears beginning to pool.

"Emma, I'm so—"

"No, Belle; you're fine. Killian, what is going on?" She said, firmer, fighting back anguish.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Are you sure? Because that looks damn incriminating."

"Can we just talk?"

Sighing, she replied, "Outside. Now."

She turned and practically ran out, and he was quickly behind her. Facing him, she nearly yelled, "What the hell was that?"

"I-I don't know, love."

"Don't you 'love' me when you are inches from kissing someone else."

"There was an eyelash—"

"That's bull and you know it."

He sighed and dropped his shoulders as if in defeat. He was about to speak when her phone went off.

"Hold that thought; we are SO not done," she spat as she dug her phone from her pocket to answer. It was David.

"Hi Dad, what's up."

"Emma, you okay?" She had made no effort to disguise her anger.

"Oh, I'm peachy. What's going on?"

"One of the dwarves found something down at the docks. You really ought to check it out."

"Alright, I'll be right there." She tried to hang up with force, but it wasn't really possible with a touch-screen phone. So she settled for a steely stare at Killian.

"We will continue this conversation later."

"Swan, I'm sorry—"

"LATER."

She couldn't bring herself to look back at him as she made her way to the Bug, and she drove off with a little more tire squeal than was necessary.

If there was one thing she was sure of in all the chaos that had been going on, it was that he was there for her, 100%, and she was going to do her best to be the same for him. Her walls were still coming down, but he had managed to break through the thick of them. _So what the hell was he doing just now?_ It would explain his behavior last night.

If there was ever a time she needed a distraction, it was now—she was almost looking forward to whatever problem awaited her at the docks.

She pulled into the gravel lot with a bit of a screech (she probably needed to have her brakes looked at), where her dad was waiting. With a cathartic slam of her door, she headed over to him. "So what's up?"

"Have you seen Killian today?"

_Ugh, really?_ "Yeah, why?"

Her father's brow furrowed into a quizzical look. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." This day was getting worse, and it was barely 8 a.m. "What's going on?"

He shook his head in mild frustration. "I dunno, but maybe you can make sense of it. Follow me."

She stayed close behind David as he led her down one of the less-used docks. At the end was a short stack of what looked to be clothes.

"Do those look familiar to you?" he asked.

She knelt down in front of them. On top was a leather jacket that looked eerily similar to Killian's—though it wasn't impossible for someone else to have it.

Underneath was a dark blue dress shirt and a black waistcoat, which also matched what Killian was wearing yesterday. "What…" she started, unable to finish the sentence as she processed what was in front of her.

"Yeah," came her father's equally confused reply.

The jacket was slightly damp, but she decided to start feeling around it for any forms of identification. As she did, she pondered aloud. "Maybe someone went for a swim?"

"But there's no pants."

She let out a nervous chuckle at that. "Well, it is a LITTLE cold." The spring air was still very chilly, and the water was barely above freezing. However, she'd heard crazier things.

Her hand hit something hard and cold in one of the jacket's inside pockets (which she immediately recognized as the same place Killian kept his phone). She pulled it out: sure enough, a cell phone that looked an awful lot like the one she was trying to call last night. However, it was clearly water damaged; nothing happened when she tried to turn it on.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed some dented keys, and recalled how Killian had damaged his phone by trying to dial with his hook.

The flask in the right pocket was the final giveaway. A cold lump formed in her stomach. This was definitely his stuff.

"I don't get it; I saw him like 10 minutes ago at the library. I was talking to him when you called."

"Are you sure it's his?"

"It has to be. Unless there's someone else running around Storybrooke with a hook-damaged cell phone, a flask of rum, and a thing for leather."

"Maybe he came down to check on his boat?"

"Maybe, if he ran." She glanced over the harbor, stopping when she saw the familiar trim of the _Jolly Roger_. She watched, but didn't see any signs of action.

Her father's eyes squinted down at something on the dock a few feet from Emma. He kneeled down to inspect whatever had caught his eye; gingerly, he reached forward to pick it up.

"What is that?" It was bright gold, with a hint of blue; at first she thought it was jewelry, but it seemed far too delicate.

"I think...I think it's a scale."

She moved to look at it closer, but of course, their thoughts were immediately interrupted by the nearby sound of shouting.

"Hey, sheriffs, you need to check this out!" Leroy shouted as he docked his boat a few slips over.

"What's killing us now, Grumpy?" David asked, a bit sarcastically.

"I think it's already dead."

Emma and David stood and exchanged a quick, concerned glance before running down their dock and over to Grumpy's fishing boat.

"What happened?" David asked, a bit out of breath.

"I was just fishin' like normal, with my net, but I caught somethin' much bigger than I've ever found in that harbor."

"What is it?" Emma asked, just making out the form of what seemed to be a long fish, judging by the bit of fin sticking out the end of the net.

"Go take a look. I'm not crazy about those fish folk."

_Could there be a mermaid here?_ It wasn't impossible; Ariel had been known to make appearances. She cautiously lowered herself onto the deck of the boat, followed by her dad, and made her way over to the unconscious form.

When she got close enough, she saw that it was definitely a mermaid. Merman, actually; he was much taller (longer?) than Ariel or the mermaids they saw in Neverland, and had a dark mess of hair and a gleaming golden tail with blue accents; from this angle, he was incredibly beautiful (and she might be in trouble if she wasn't definitely taken). "That must be the scale you found." "Yeah; think he wants it back?" Her sideways glance told him that his joke was bad.

He was face-down on the deck, with his arms tucked under him. A bit of blood at the base of his hairline suggested he'd been hit by one of the net's weights, and the red mark on the one by his head confirmed it. But the gentle rise and fall of his back let them know he was still alive. "Help me get this net off; maybe we can wake him up and find out why he's here."

David pulled the merman's shoulder up to roll him over while Emma took his hip, if it could be called that. She started pulling at the net to untangle it, but didn't get very far before she heard her father's breath hitch. "Emma."

"Dad, we have to get this net off."

"Emma, look."

A bit exasperated, she looked up at her father. "What?" He was staring down at the merman, so she followed his eyes. She gasped.

The first thing she noticed was his left hand...or rather, a lack of it. In its place was the leather brace she knew all too well.

On the right forearm was a unique tattoo she'd seen a few times, but would recognize anywhere.

She followed the arm up to the bare chest that she had only seen part of until now, adorned with its usual charms on a chain. She briefly worried over the black marking over his heart, but there'd be time for that later.

She knelt down at his side, frantically pulling at the nets to expose his face. She had been surprised by innumerable things over the last two years, but this was easily the biggest. Because as she traced the scar on his right cheek, she knew: it was definitely, unmistakably, beautifully Killian.


	4. Revealed

_Quick note: As I started this story before "Poor Unfortunate Souls," a few elements prior to Killian's dip in the harbor will have to be out-of-canon. In this story, Killian met with Ursula to try to get her out of the picture because he knew how to get her happy ending, being the one who took it. They don't know that Rumple is back in town yet._

* * *

Killian dreamed he was a child again. He didn't have those dreams often, nor did he enjoy them—too many painful memories. But this dream was different.

He was only 5 or 6, and his father was carrying him to bed. The sleepy boy looked up at him through his half-open eyes, and could just make out the dark hair and bright blue eyes that he passed on to the child in his arms. Killian smiled at the sight, despite the sadness he could see etched on his father's face.

His father laid him down on the bed he shared with his big brother Liam, and brought up the blankets to tuck him in. The man knelt down, kissed him on the cheek, and said his name.

"Killian."

That wasn't his father's voice...whose was it?

"Killian, can you hear me?"

His eyes slowly opened, and the gleam of golden hair was the first thing he saw.

"Swan," he whispered with a smile, reaching up to touch her face. He had to make sure it was really her. She smiled back at him and held his hand, gently squeezing the fingers.

As he came to, the ache in his head reminded him that he'd been knocked out. _But I was under water when that happened_.

"How...how did you find me?"

"You, uh, got caught."

"Caught?"

"Leroy's fishing net. You got got hit in the head by one of the weights, and he dragged you up."

He groaned. _Of all the indignities_. The morning's events came rushing back to him, as did his dream. He glanced around and realized that he was lying on his bed at Granny's; David was also in the room, staring at something near the foot of the bed.

He was suddenly incredibly self-conscious of the display he must be making. He had been so focused on finding her that he hadn't really considered how she, or anyone, would take the dramatic (and potentially revolting) change, especially when he himself was still accepting it—adapting was one thing, and he'd done it out of sheer necessity, but coming to terms with it was a whole other.

So he defaulted to the cocky front he usually hid behind when feeling like a fish out of water (though it had never been quite so literal).

"Impressive, isn't it, mate?" He grinned at David and gave a little flap with his fin.

David smirked back. "It's something alright. A bit slippery when you're carrying it, though."

_That explains the dream_. "I imagine so. Thanks."

He turned his attention to Emma, nerves rising to the surface again. "I hadn't quite planned on telling you about my...situation this way."

She swallowed, focusing on his face as if she was avoiding looking elsewhere. "What the hell happened?"

"I still have no idea." He explained what happened with Ursula: how he tried to return her voice to help her get her happy ending; how it didn't work; how their ensuing argument resulted in him being knocked out via tentacle and thrown in the harbor; and how he suspected she had cursed him, given their past.

"Dad, what do you think?" Emma asked her father.

"I've only ever heard of a person becoming a mermaid once; it happened to your mother, but that was because of an enchanted bracelet and an exchange with Ariel. But this is Ursula, the sea witch; anything is possible."

Emma glanced down, still holding his hand in her lap. "I'm going to call Regina."

Killian's stomach did a flip, thinking back to the impostor last night. "Are you sure, Swan? Is she still on our side?"

"She is," David confirmed. "I talked to her at the bus stop this morning."

"Then who the bloody hell was taking my form last night?" The only other people he knew with shapeshifting skills had been sent out over the town line or were dead; he didn't want to think what he might be implying just now.

The realization hit Emma and David at the same time; they both had the same shocked look on their face. "That...that wasn't you...not last night, not at the library today…" Emma stammered out her revelation as it came to her, then, oddly, breathed a sigh of relief. "I am SO glad that wasn't you at the library."

"Yeah, what happened? You sounded pissed," David asked.

"Whoever it was who looked like Killian was making the moves on Belle."

An anger he hadn't felt in years rose in his chest; his suspicions were right. _Maybe my meeting with Ursula was a trap all along_. He pulled his hand back to prop himself up to a sitting position so he could be at eye level with Emma. "They're trying to get to you, Swan."

"What?"

"The witches, or whatever they're calling themselves; I think they tried to get rid of me to get to you."

Emma drew her lips tight as she considered it; he couldn't help but think that even in distress, his Swan was beautiful. But then her brow furrowed.

"Wait, how did you know about that?"

"I was watching from a dock across the street."

"Why didn't you call for help?"

"I tried, but these lungs apparently aren't made for shouting; at least, not over your truck's engine." He chuckled, and David rolled his eyes in response.

The conversation lulled for a moment, allowing Killian's stomach to make an embarrassing noise of protest.

Emma smiled. "You hungry?"

"Aye, quite." It must have been 24 hours since his last meal.

"I'll run downstairs and grab some stuff," David said. "What do you guys want?"

At the same time, Killian and Emma replied, "Grilled cheese." She laughed.

"Alright, three grilled cheese; rum?"

Oddly, the thought of his preferred beverage made his stomach flip in revulsion; that was the first time in his adult life he could recall turning it down. "Water will do."

"You've spent the last day underwater and that's all you want?" Emma had a smirk of disbelief on her face.

"I know; I guess merfolk don't drink."

David left, and Emma pulled out her phone to call Regina. "Hey, we need your help with something. Something with magic. Can you come meet me at Granny's?" He could hear a muffled but affirmative response on the other end. "Ok, great; see you soon." She hung up.

"You're sure we can still trust her?" She _was _Cora's daughter, after all, and Zelena's sister, whose trickery still stung.

"Positive." There were no doubts on her face, which made him relax.

But only for a second, as she then used the back of her hand to wipe her mouth, a look of disgust on her face. "Something wrong, love?"

"I...I kissed whoever that was. I feel like my lips will never be clean."

He covered a pang of jealousy with a laugh and a sly smile; he was slightly relieved it wasn't directed at him, but he didn't think he was in the clear yet. "I could try cleaning them up for you."

It would have broken his heart if she'd responded negatively, though he would have understood—_who'd want to kiss a fish?_ But her shy smile raised his hopes, and he reached up to cup her face and leaned in. He had missed her soft lips on his, and the spark he felt every time they connected. Her hands on his shoulders emitted a warmth he hadn't felt since his plunge, and it was intoxicating.

When they finally broke apart, he quietly asked, "Better?"

She shyly smiled back. "Much."

Just sitting with their foreheads touching felt like heaven; the cold emptiness of the ocean had made him realize just how much he took for granted even these small moments of physical intimacy.

Her hands slid down his shoulders to find his hand and hook, holding them. He noticed that she was finally stealing glances at the tail.

"Quite a change, isn't it?"

"It's just a lot to take in." He supposed that was the reaction he expected; the subject of aquatic creatures had never come up in conversation, but he had a nagging suspicion she preferred them battered and fried. Which is why he was shocked at her next question.

"Can I touch it?" She gave him a sheepish glance, but he could see the curiosity in her eyes. He couldn't help but laugh, albeit nervously, at her expression. "Of course, love."

Gingerly, she placed a hand near his waist, where the scales started. He worried she'd recoil, but she held it there for a moment before slowly sliding down what used to be his leg.

"Well?"

"It's...cool."

_That could mean a million things_; he just hoped "disgusting" wasn't one of them (though he mightn't put it past her). "How so?"

"I guess I expected it to be slimy, like a fish; but, it's more...smooth, I guess. And hard; I wasn't expecting that."

"You don't find it off-putting?"

"No, I could never think that about you. Killian, it—_you_ are beautiful."

He could hardly contain his relief at her sentiments; what had he done to deserve someone so accepting of him, cursed and all? He placed a gentle kiss of thanks on her forehead.

A cough at the door indicated that David had returned with the food, and Regina followed him into the room.

The shock on the queen's face was something he wouldn't soon forget. "You didn't tell her?" Emma complained.

"What was I gonna say? 'Come check out the awesome fish I caught?'" Emma rolled her eyes and Killian raised an eyebrow, though he supposed the fish jokes were inevitable.

"Wh...how?" was all Regina could stammer out.

Killian repeated the story as he had earlier. "What are your thoughts, your highness?"

"I've never heard of someone spontaneously changing species; there's usually a physical catalyst of some kind."

"Like that cuff you gave Ariel?" David asked.

"Exactly—something enchanted."

Emma spoke up. "Could it be a curse? Like dark magic?"

"Why don't you tell me? Your light magic should have no problem finding any; it always leaves traces."

Emma stood up. "Ok, how do I do that?"

Regina sighed. "It's like I've always told you—you have to feel it."

Emma shot a slight glare her way before closing her eyes and holding a hand out in front of her, in his direction.

"You can do this, love," he whispered. As much as he was eager to find out just what the hell was going on, he could be patient if it meant Emma got to improve her magic.

Her fingertips glowed with a prickly white light, slowly pulsing as it sought out any traces of dark magic that might be on his person. Her brow furrowed as she continued searching, but after a minute, she opened her eyes, confused. "I'm not finding anything."

Regina closed her eyes in response, and opened them up a second later, with an equally perturbed look on her face. "I'm not getting anything, either."

He hoped the panic he felt inside wasn't evident when he spoke. "What the bloody hell does that mean?" If it wasn't dark magic, then...what?

"There's one other thing I can check, but I don't…"

"Do it." He needed to know.

"Okay...but I'll need a bit of your blood."

Emma tried to interject. "Regina, no—" But he had already stabbed a finger with his hook (not for the first time in his life, but probably the first on purpose). As a drop formed, he asked, "Where do you need it?"

The queen conjured a small dish and asked him to squeeze it out onto it. She held it in her palm, hand hovering over it and moving in a circular pattern.

"What are you doing?" Emma's curiosity was piqued again.

"Sorting."

"Sorting?" It sounded ridiculous to him; was she implying his blood was a mixture of some kind?

"Yes...here, watch." She came closer and brought the dish down to where they could all see it (which reminded him that he wasn't really a fan of being bedridden). It wasn't a large amount of blood, but it began to swirl around in the dish. It then broke into two equal parts, spinning on their own; one of them was also changing colors.

When the motion ceased, two equal-sized drops of blood sat side by side; one was red, like any human's would be; but the other was a bright aqua. _What the bloody hell? That's in my blood?_

"Well, that partly explains it."

_Sure it does_. "Care to enlighten us, your majesty?"

"This spell identifies different species by their blood, showing each in a different color; in the case of a hybrid, it will identify all species present in a sample."

_Hybrid?_

"So, you're saying…" Emma's voice trailed off in disbelief.

"Yes. Hook, you're half mermaid."

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	5. Family History

"_Hook, you're half mermaid."_

The statement hit him like a ship. _HALF mermaid? It couldn't be. Wouldn't that mean…_ "That can't be...that's...that's impossible," he said, shaking his head.

"Think back. Do you ever remember your mother spending lots of time in the water; maybe an aversion to eating fish?"

His mother loved the ocean, but he also had very vague, fuzzy memories of her parents; he remembered their brief presence after his father left. "It couldn't have been her—she had family on dry land."

"What about your father?"

A lump formed in Killian's throat that no amount of swallowing would get rid of. His father had left them...actually, the very night he had just dreamed of. He thought he had long forgotten the pain and betrayal, but now it was bubbling up fresh in his memory.

"I thought mermen rarely came to the surface," David stated from his perch by the door.

"It's uncommon, but it has happened," Regina replied.

"My father was a fugitive; he left when I was a lad. The law had come for him and he abandoned us."

An uneasy quiet fell over the room, broken only by the sudden dripping of the faucet in the bathroom.

Calmly, Regina asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure that he was there one day and gone the next, never to be heard from again." Anger and hurt were coursing through his veins, and the dripping noise seemed to speed up to match the rhythm of his fast-beating heart. His own words rang in his head: "_Wounds made when we're young tend to linger_." He just didn't realize they could come back after so long.

Emma reached for his hand, trying to calm him down. Her touch was comforting, but he was still upset.

"Well, I don't see any other possibility," Regina stated matter-of-factly. "My guess: your father was a merman, and when you were thrown unconscious into the sea, that half of you kicked into gear. Instead of a fight-or-flight instinct, it was more of a...fight-or-swim."

Emma, David, and Regina continued to discuss theories and options—he heard Belle's name brought up, and Regina saying something about being "fresh out of magic bracelets"—but he tuned out, leaned back, and retreated into himself.

He was half merman. This _wasn't_ a curse—it was who he was; his body's natural response to almost drowning. He tried to let it sink in, but it sounded so ridiculous. He could believe a curse, given his uneasy history with the creatures, especially Ursula and Ariel. _But hereditary?_ He ran his hand over his face and through his hair in frustration.

He searched his memory for any indication that his father was anything but a man, but he remembered so little of that time as it was. Even his father's face was hard to place, but from what he recalled, Killian got much of his looks from him, while Liam took after their mother. _Perhaps too much of his looks_.

_A merman_. It did explain a lot. Why Killian had always felt most at home on the water. Why he had a knack for surviving.

Why, after the initial shock, it felt so natural to him; why swimming was second nature. _Why it feels so good at times_.

_Is that why he left us?_ He had stopped asking that question centuries ago, unable to come up with an answer that eased the pain, but perhaps this revelation could shed some light on it. There was never an indication his father was unhappy; he was just there one day and gone the next, taking nothing with him and leaving behind his wedding ring and an old leather cuff.

He supposed he could understand if the man missed the ocean, but leaving his family? _Only cowards do that_, and Killian Jones had no tolerance for cowards.

Emma squeezed his hand again, drawing him out of his stupor. "You ok?"

He gave a small smile, and echoed her words from earlier. "It's just a lot to take in." She gave him a sympathetic smile, and rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand.

"Do you need a bandaid for your finger?"

He pulled his hand away to look at the spot where he stabbed himself; amazingly, it was unblemished. "Um, I guess not."

"Mermai...people have healing powers," Regina told them, correcting herself. _Damn right, I'm no maid._

Emma reached for the back of his head, massaging the place where he had been hit earlier. "Looks like that's healed, too." His headache was gone as well. "Cool," Emma said, with a twinkle in her eye.

He tried to smile back, but the weight of the revelation was still sitting heavily.

"Hey—we'll figure this out," she said while placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He was eternally grateful for her presence, and those words calmed him like nothing else could have. "_I've yet to see you fail,"_ he recalled saying to her once, and it was still true.

"Now, how about that grilled cheese?"

* * *

The dwarf was shouting again. "It was this big, I swear!"

Cruella was never in the mood for big fish stories, but the Rabbit Hole was the only place in this godforsaken village that served a decent G&amp;T. Ursula, on the other hand, found them amusing.

"His tail was bright gold, with some blue in it—it almost blinded me! And it wasn't even sunny!"

"That's sounds like quite a fish fish," Cruella said.

Ursula paused. "I get the feeling it's not a fish."

"And he had jet-black hair, and a couple of tattoos."

The witches exchanged a look. "I think a merman is visiting us."

"That's your territory, darling," Cruella stated before gulping down the rest of her drink.

"It is...and we might be able to use him."

* * *

_Apologies for the short update, but the next one will be longer._

_I'm so glad to see so many people enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. You guys are AWESOME! Thank you!  
_


	6. I Could Get Used To This

After Regina left to see if there was anything useful in her vault, they were finally able to dig into their (thankfully) still-hot sandwiches. Emma watched Killian as she worked on hers. She was trying to figure out if his quiet was due to hunger or what was just revealed; it was probably both.

She definitely knew what it was like to have a bombshell like that dropped on you—that your very existence wasn't what you thought it was, and your parents weren't who you thought (or ever imagined) they were. It had taken a lot of convincing from Henry and that darn book for her to believe it, and there were still days it was hard to comprehend.

But Killian had undeniable proof; there was no going back from this revelation. She'd at least had the advantage of being reunited with her parents and getting an explanation for everything, but his path would be a little harder—his were obviously long gone, and considering she had never heard him talk of his father (well, either parent) until now, it was clearly a touchy subject.

She watched as he reached for his glass of water for the umpteenth time; she'd never seen him so thirsty for something that wasn't rum.

"Save some for the fish," David quipped from across the room.

"Really, Dad?" As tempting as the fish jokes were, she swore she wouldn't partake until he'd had enough time to accept this new reality. Thankfully, he didn't seem phased by the comment. "Do you need a refill?"

"Thanks, love," he said, handing her the now-empty glass with a tired smile that barely reached his eyes. She wanted to talk with him, comfort him, tell him it would all be ok and everything was fine; but they'd probably need a little privacy.

She took the glass into the bathroom to refill it from the now-silent faucet. While walking back, her dad's phone buzzed.

"It's your mother; what do I tell her?"

Killian spoke up, but kept his eyes down. "The truth." _Well that's a good sign_, she thought. _He doesn't want to hide it_.

"Alright; I'll let her know. I should probably head back out on some sheriff rounds; do you need anything from me?"

"I've got it. Thanks, Dad."

They said their goodbyes, and Emma took a seat on the edge of the bed next to Killian, setting the glass back on the bedside table.

"How are you doing?"

"As best as can be expected, I suppose," he said. "I just..." he trailed off, scratching that spot behind his ear he always found when he was nervous. "I need some time."

Reaching for his hand, she looked him in the eyes and told him, "I know. And I'll be here whenever you need me."

He responded with the first genuine smile she'd seen since his blue eyes finally opened back up. "That means more to me than you'll ever know, Swan."

His smile was infectious; she couldn't help but return it. And then some—her lips quickly found his, and her hand instinctively reached for the place above his heart. As much as she was hoping to comfort him, he was doing the same for her as she continued to wrap her mind around everything.

She had never felt his bare skin under her hands before like this; despite the craziness of the situation, she enjoyed the intimacy.

They broke apart and she rested her head on his cool shoulder..._abnormally cool_.

"Are you cold? We brought your stuff back from the docks, or I can get a blanket, or—"

"I'm fine, love; I think it's a...merperson thing. But you can always try warming me up, if you want," he added, licking his lips. She rolled her eyes at the innuendo, but was happy that he'd perked up enough to make some.

Her fingers lightly skimmed his skin where hand rest, and he tilted his head as if melting into her touch.

She'd almost forgotten the mark on his chest until she felt its raised outline against his otherwise smooth skin. She finally took the time to get a better look at it; she was relieved to see it was just a tattoo.

"What's this?"

He quietly sighed. "Something else I was hoping to reveal properly, but, as usual, Storybrooke seems intent on ruining my romantic endeavours."

She raised an eyebrow in response out of curiosity. He continued, "It's not done, but go on; have a look."

Leaning over to look at it directly, she didn't know how she had missed it before: the unmistakable outline of a swan. A grin broke over her face as she traced it; she had gotten better at accepting that there were people in her life now who loved and supported her, but this? This was something else.

"Do you like it?" he asked shyly.

It never ceased to amaze her how this former ruthless pirate could bare such vulnerability with her; but Lord knew she had made her own leaps and bounds in that department. Someday, she'd help him overcome all his insecurities, as he was doing with her, but for now, it would have to be one at a time.

"I love it. What will it look like when it's done?"

"More detailed. You aren't just an outline of a woman; you are full of color and complexities. I wouldn't be doing you justice to have such a simple representation on my person." If she hasn't already been swooning, she was now; a kiss seemed too small a response for the level of adoration she was feeling, but it would have to do.

Once that was done (it _may_ have lingered), she had a thought. _Maybe I can keep his spirits up if we focus on other things_. "So, we have the afternoon; want to watch some Netflix?"

"As long as I'm with you, Swan—anything."

She smiled and hopped up from the chair to get her iPad from her bag while he drank some water. Upon returning, she made him move over so they could share the bed, and she queued up her favorite sitcom.

The afternoon passed by in unusual calm. No monster was tearing up part of the town; no one was actively trying to kill them (at least, not anymore—Ursula was a problem for another day). They'd had plenty of quiet moments in past few weeks, but given the chaos of the last few days, it was nice to just sit back.

From where she was seated on the bed, his strong arm around her, it was almost easy to ignore the changes. It should have been weird, but was far from it. _Interesting? Extraordinary? Something like that. I mean, your boyfriend is a freaking MERMAN, Emma. That's pretty darn cool_.

She wasn't about to draw attention to it, but in between refilling his glass between episodes and answering his questions about this realm as they came, she was definitely admiring the view. (Not that she hadn't before, of course, but this was a bit different.) She had been taken by his beauty before she knew who the gorgeous tail belonged to. The bright blue highlights matched his eyes too perfectly to be anything but genetic, and stood as a stark but seamless contrast to the polished gold of the rest (it had dulled a bit since they brought him here, but she assumed that was because he'd dried off). _He must have inherited that face from his father, as well_, she thought, wondering what the man who made someone as unfairly handsome as Killian would look like.

It was just so...so Killian; as much a part of him as her magic was part of her. And she'd gladly take him in this form, or any, if the alternative was not at all.

Around dinner time, she offered to run out and grab some food. He had grown progressively more tired as the afternoon wore on, so she hoped some food might reenergize him. _I bet the comfy bed feels nicer than a rock, too_. "Need anything before I go?"

"Just a refill, I suppose."

She obliged, and noticed how dry his skin was when she got back. "I'll grab you some lotion while I'm out, too."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What for?"

"Look at how dry you are. You sure you don't want a shirt?"

"What, don't like what you see?" She couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head. _He's impossible_.

She gave him a quick kiss goodbye, noting that he probably needed some chapstick, too. "I'll be back soon."

After a quick trip to the pharmacy, she was waiting at Granny's counter for their to-go burgers when her mother came in. Snow greeted her daughter with a hug, asking, "How is everything?"

"I guess as good as can be expected. It'll take some adjustment." Her mother was notoriously bad at keeping secrets, so Emma was thankful they were speaking a bit cryptically.

"I have to imagine." Then, lowering her voice, but giggling slightly, "What does he look like?"

"Really, Mom?" _She did NOT just try to ogle my boyfriend_. (She was probably long overdue in life for that experience, though.)

"What, I can look!"

Emma groaned. "Fine; you can come up when I get our food." As if on cue, Granny brought her the foam boxes. "Can I come up, too?" she asked as she handed them to Emma with a wink.

Emma's jaw must have dropped, as did Snow's, because Granny just laughed and headed back to work. She and her mother exchanged a look of shock, before laughing and heading upstairs.

"Hey, I'm back; my mom's here, too—" she said as they came through the door, but stopped when she saw that he was asleep.

Ignoring her mother's gasp of awe, she set the food on the dresser and took off her jacket quietly before trying to rouse him. He was usually a light sleeper, so she was surprised she hadn't already woke him.

Gently shaking his shoulder, she called to him, but got no response. So she tried again, a little harder and a little louder. Still nothing.

She turned on a light, hoping that might wake him; but when the room was illuminated and she looked at him, a lump formed in her stomach.

He was pale—much paler than he had been when they found him this morning, and his skin was still dry. His tail even looked washed out; it had dulled even beyond what she noticed earlier. And his breathing was labored, not restful.

"Mom, what do I do?" She wasn't about to go through this again today, but panic was creeping in.

"Emma...I think he needs to be in water."

_Of course he does. What did you think, Emma, that you could keep a merman in a bed and it'd all be fine?_ "Ok, let's get him into the bathtub." "The tub?" "Well, we can't just carry him down to the docks, can we?"

It was a bit of a struggle, but with Emma supporting his shoulders and Snow his tail, they were able to get him into the clawfoot tub, though he was considerably longer than it—his fin ended up hanging off the end. Once they settled him, she immediately turned on the faucet to fill it.

"Do you think we should add some salt?" she asked her mother.

"Salt? Why?" she responded, confused.

"You know, like in that movie, _Splash_?" _Do they have that here? Is that even a thing that works?_

"I'm on it." _Ok, apparently they do and it is_.

Emma double-checked that the tub stopper was in while Snow ran downstairs to grab a salt shaker. She quickly returned, and they added it to the slowly rising water.

The change was almost immediate: within minutes, his breathing returned to normal, and his color began to improve. Some of the gleam came back to his tail.

He was ok for now, but her mother was right: he needed to be in the water.

_He can't stay with me_.

* * *

_As always, THANKS FOR READING! You people are fabulous!_


	7. Moving

Honestly, the rocks were more comfortable than the tub. The bath was splendid for short durations, but not for an entire night. Even with Swan resting nearby—stubbornly insisting on staying with him in the bathroom, despite the presence of the bed in the next room—it was one of the least pleasant nights in his long memory.

Killian couldn't remember passing out (again—that was happening far too often lately); he just knew that one minute, he was waiting for Emma's return, and the next, he was surrounded by water. From what he'd been told, that was what revived him. He had been feeling parched and sluggish all day, so he certainly felt physically better. But he was itching to move, and tired of being confined—not just to the tub, but to the room, too. He'd have to find open water soon.

_You can't just walk out of here, though; can you, mate?_ That was what got to him the most: knowing that this bloody tail, despite it being truly a part of him, was also a curse, even if it wasn't of the dark magic variety. Because, yet again, something was placing a barrier between he and Emma.

Emma stirred from her sleeping position on the bathroom rug. _This is certainly not what I'd envisioned for our first night spent together_. Still, it had been pleasant to watch her sleep; he had crossed his arms on the tub's edge and was resting his chin on them for that express purpose. The worries and stresses that were so clearly written on her face (at least, to him) during the day melted away. He longed to see her that at peace all the time.

Green eyes slowly opened and found his, making him smile immediately. "Morning, beautiful."

"Isn't it too early for that?" she replied sleepily.

"Never with you, love."

"Did you sleep?"

"A bit. You?"

"A bit." She stretched. "Are you doing ok?"

"I'm doing ok," he lied.

Her face fell. "No you're not." _Of course she'd catch that_. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He sighed. _Do I want to talk about the fact that my own blood is forcing me into the ocean, away from you?_ He knew he had to, though.

"I can't stay here, Emma."

She glanced down, dejectedly. "I know."

He had promised not to let her down. Yet now he was being forced to.

To his surprise, she crawled over to the tub, keeping the blanket around her shoulders, and mimicked his position on the edge of the bath right next to him.

After holding his gaze for a few seconds, she closed her eyes. "I don't—," she started, and then sighed, pressing her forehead against her arms. "I almost lost you twice in the last two days; I'm scared to let you go." Then she opened her eyes again to stare at him. "You sure you don't like the tub?"

He smiled. "Love, I wouldn't like the tub even if I still had legs. But thank you for getting me in here."

"Well I wasn't about to let you turn into a goldfish cracker."

"So _now _we get into the fish jokes." She grinned back, and he couldn't keep his own in.

It was bittersweet, though. He lived for these quiet, shared moments—yesterday afternoon was an especial treat, to be in such close proximity, ignoring their worries and problems—even those present—for a few hours. How much would they be able to do that if he was confined to the frigid ocean?

"Where will you go?"

He'd given it little thought. "I suppose back to the beach I spent the prior night; it seemed secluded—no roads or anything."

"Where was it?"

"Outside town; the coast was a bit rocky."

"That sounds like where Elsa's sister washed up. It's only really accessible from the mine. It'd be a good spot to lay low, if that's what you were going for."

"I don't suppose I have another option, do I?"

She reached over for his hand and squeezed; she smiled, but he could see the sadness in her eyes. "I'll call my dad; he can help us get you there."

"We best do it soon, before they day gets much lighter." It must have been very early, as the sun was not yet in view through the room's only window.

"Alright," she said, and stood up. She pulled a towel from the rod and threw it at him. "Might want to dry off before you get in the truck; my dad would kill you if you got the seats wet."

"That would be quite a fish fry."

"Don't you start, too," she gently laughed.

He lifted himself up with his arms to a seated position on the edge of the tub, and swung his tail out across it. He was probably making a mess, but it's not like anyone would be using the room in the foreseeable future. He couldn't shake the feeling of finality as he dried and prepared to leave, even though he had faith Emma or someone would figure this out.

"Do you want to wear your jacket?" Emma called from the next room. "Like, for protection, or a disguise or something?"

_Yes, because this tail is so easy to hide_. "I think I'll be fine, but I'll wear it if you think I should." The exchange felt almost domestic.

She came and stood in the doorway, staring at him and concentrating on something. "What is it, love?"

"I think you do need a disguise."

"It's a little hard to cover all this up," he said, gesturing to his lower half.

"No; I mean your face. If they think you're gone, what will happen if they see you in the passenger seat of the truck?"

_She has a point_. "What do you propose?"

She thought. "I'll ask my dad to bring something."

David arrived 15 minutes later. Killian already had his jacket and a shirt on (he jokingly protested that they didn't match his tail, at which Emma rolled her eyes), and David provided what he called a "baseball" cap and a pair of sunglasses. He thought both were ridiculous, but he obliged in wearing them. (David may also have threatened to let him "flop down the stairs"; it was awkward enough that he was going to be carried out, but he wouldn't suffer the indignity of it being suggested that he "flop" anywhere _ever_.)

They got out without issue and without being seen and took off for the mine entrance, with Emma and her mother following in the bug.

The disguise proved worthwhile when they drove past Cruella—she didn't notice anything.

They rode in silence, until they got out of town and the terrain grew more wooded, when David spoke up. "Hey, Killian," which took him by surprise—David had only ever referred to him as "Hook". "I know you're still coming to terms with this, but...well, it's kind of cool."

"I believe your daughter shares your outlook." _I might if it wasn't such a hindrance_.

"Do you?"

"Mate, I've spent the better part of my adult life avoiding mercreatures; they've only given me trouble. That fact doesn't seem to have changed."

David pondered that for a moment. "Well, Emma won't stop until this is figured out—I can guarantee it."

Killian smiled. "On that, we are in agreement."

The rest of the journey went easily, though being carried down into a mine shaft was an experience he hoped never to repeat.

The beach was quiet and undisturbed, and still a bit dark as it waited for the sun's rays to crest the cliffs at the the far end. David set Killian down in the shallows, and Killian shirked his clothing.

Snow came forward once he was settled, digging through her bag and pulling out two small objects. "I found these at the loft. Emma, if you can enchant them, maybe they can be used to communicate." She handed them to Emma: two seashells.

_NOW we find shells_, he grumbled internally. Though if he hadn't been searching, they wouldn't have found him.

Emma held one in either hand, concentrating. The shells began to glow as she worked her magic; he'd never tire of watching that. She stopped after a minute and handed one to him. "Wanna test it out?"

He brought it up to his mouth and spoke into it. "Like this?" he said into the opening.

Emma had the other one by her ear, but jerked it away when he spoke due to the excessive volume. "Yeah, it works. Maybe keep it down, though?" He just laughed; it was the first truly amusing thing to come out of all this.

Emma hung back after David and Snow left to head back into town. "Will you be ok by yourself?"

"I'll manage, Swan. You needn't worry about me."

"Just...don't get into any trouble, ok?"

"When have I ever done that?" he said sarcastically.

She smirked. "I'll stop by around lunch, ok?"

"Alright. See you then." She leaned down to give him a quick kiss before heading back to the mine.

After she left, he dove into the surf. He expected to need to reacclimate himself to the movement, but of course, he didn't. It truly felt like he'd been doing this his whole life.

With nothing else to do—and he hated idleness—he decided to explore what was available to him. Daylight made it much easier to see underwater, revealing the jagged depths of the coast. It wasn't particularly picturesque, but it was unlike anything he'd seen before. Typically, a pirate tried to minimize his time under the water, yet here he found himself entranced by the graceful movements of a simple bed of kelp.

There wasn't much in the way of wildlife, but certainly enough to keep the local fishermen busy. He knew fish traveled together, and had seen his fair share of schools from above, but it was another thing entirely to watch them weave along together down here, the light shimmering off their scales as they moved. (It made him wonder if the sun had a similar effect on his own.)

It was all enthralling, but hardly useful. Granted he wasn't a leader here in Storybrooke, but the more he became ingrained in the town, the more he felt he had to offer—and possibly be able to redeem himself. That was part of why he'd began helping Belle with research at the library; he should be there right now, continuing research on the hat or how to get these so-called Queens of Darkness out of town (seeing as how he failed spectacularly with Ursula). Or he should be helping Emma or David track someone or something down. Or even just spending time with Henry, keeping the lad safe while the others managed the danger.

A voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Killian?" It was coming from the shell.

"Emma?" he asked quietly. He'd been exploring longer than he thought.

"Where are you? I'm at the beach."

"I'll be right there."

The sun was streaming through the water directly overhead, indicating that it was indeed noon. He reached the surface quickly, though he was farther out than he thought he was. Emma was far away, but he could see her relax when he broke through. He dove back in to get to the beach quicker; traveling underwater was much easier than trying to stay above.

When he came back up a minute later, Emma was sitting down on a rocky area closer to the water and pulling food out of a bag from Granny's. She looked up when she heard the water break around him, a smile lighting up her face. When he was close enough to pull himself up on the rock next to her, she reached out to push his hair out of his face.

"I didn't realize these worked underwater."

"Aye, a distinct advantage over your talking phones."

"Definitely." She smirked and then bit into her grilled cheese. It warmed him to see how excited she was to see him, but he wished he hadn't had to leave her side in the first place.

They ate in silence for a bit, until she spoke up. "What did you do this morning?"

"Nothing of consequence. Anything happen in town?"

"Nothing exciting. You had to see something interesting down there."

"Anything down there pales compared to you." She laughed and said he was being "corny," but it was the absolute truth.

She stopped eating and grew pensive. "Can...I ask you a question? About...all this?"

He swallowed, nervous for some reason. "Of course you may."

After a pause, she asked, "What's it feel like? Having a tail?"

Her curiosity made him smile. "Well, physically, no different than having legs. It feels like it was always supposed to be there; swimming comes as natural as walking."

"I guess that makes sense. And you're really not cold?"

"Really; it doesn't bother me."

"You sound like Elsa," she laughed. "Is it...fun?"

He chuckled a bit. "I suppose; it can be very freeing." He knew deep down that if there was nothing tying him to land, he'd be much more accepting of the general turn of events; however, that was not the case.

She smiled. "I was worried you'd feel lonely or abandoned down here, but I'm glad you can keep yourself entertained."

_Does she really think I'm alright with this?_ "Swan, I'd much rather be assisting you; you know that, right?" Her smile faded to a look of concern. "I'm useless out here."

She grabbed his hand. "I know you're frustrated, but think of the alternative; you wouldn't be here at all."

_You idiot_. She was right, and he was acting selfish. "Sorry, love."

"It's ok; I get it. I miss having you nearby. But I'd much rather have this than nothing."

He couldn't help but agree. "Aye, me too."

* * *

**_Hope you guys liked the fish jokes ;)_**

**_Thanks for reading! Have a fantastic day!_**


	8. He's Back

_Happy Easter! (John 3:16-17) This is a shorter update, but one of my favorite chapters (so I figured I'd share it today as it's my birthday!). Hopefully it'll help make up for the lack of a new episode tonight (*shakes fist at ABC*). Hope you like it!_

* * *

David arrived at the library after eating lunch with Snow.

"Hello, sheriff; what do you need help with today?" Belle greeted with a friendly smirk.

"What do you have on merfolk?"

Her smile turned into concern. "Is this about Ursula?"

"If anyone asks, say it's that; but it's actually Hook." He explained what was going on, under the warning that she had to keep it completely quiet.

"So...so that wasn't him in here yesterday?"

"No."

She sighed, but David couldn't quite tell if it was out of relief or fear.

"Let me know if he shows up again; we'd like to figure that one out, too."

"Yeah, I will. What is it you want me to find in my research?"

"Anything about half mermaids, or how they can change into humans."

"I'll see what I can find." She forced a smile; he assumed she was a bit shaken by what the not-Killian pulled yesterday.

"Thanks. Call us if anything comes up."

Behind him, the bell on the door indicated it was open. "Afternoon, love; hello, mate."

_Dammit_. As if on cue, the impostor had showed up. _Alright, time to go into protective dad mode...well, sort of_.

"You've got a lot of nerve, Hook." Whoever it was stopped in his tracks, a confused look etched on his brow. "Sheriff, whatever are you talking about?"

"I heard what you did yesterday, to Emma, to Belle. You think you can just show up here and pretend it didn't happen?"

"It wasn't—"

"I think you should leave," Belle interjected from her position behind the counter. David was relieved she picked up on what he was doing; they couldn't let this person know that Killian was still alive.

The man glanced between David and Belle. Seeing no warmth or change from either, he slouched his shoulders in defeat. "Fine. Have it your way." He slammed the door on his way out.

Sighing in relief, David turned to Belle. "Well, that took care of that."

Belle watched the stranger sulk down the street. "For now."

David then began racking his brain—how many people called him "Sheriff"?

* * *

The rest of the day passed much as the morning had, and Emma visited Killian again at dinner time. She told him what happened when her father visited in the library, which made his blood boil—not just that this magician was using his form, but that he (or she) was abusing the relationships he'd worked so hard to forge. The stormy ocean around them agreed.

"Stay safe tonight, Killian. I don't like the looks of that."

"I've weathered many a storm, Swan. I'll be fine."

"Good night," she told him with a long kiss. Feeling the heat he felt roll off of her when they kissed was one of the things he most enjoyed about changing forms; his body was equipped to handle the cold when she left, so he felt the warmth a thousand times more than he had before.

The water had calmed, but there was still wind in the air. If a storm was coming in, he needed to make sure the _Jolly Roger_ was properly moored, as he doubted it was. It was unlikely he'd be able to do much, but it was dark enough that he could try without risk of being seen.

He was surprised to see, upon arrival, that it was indeed docked correctly. The knots, while a bit sloppy, would hold. He could immediately identify them as the handiwork of Henry; he'd have to remember to thank the boy.

As he tightened a couple connected to a dock near the bow, he heard footsteps on the deck of the ship; voices followed. _Who dare goes on MY ship?_

"I can't believe they actually fell for it. You're not THAT good an actor."

_Ursula, of course_. If she thought he was gone, then she'd certainly take advantage of the open ship as quarters. _She must have Cruella with her_. He quietly moved to a hidden position under the dock that afforded a view of the starboard side.

But the next voice he heard didn't belong to the dog fiend, or a woman at all. A chill went through his whole body as he heard the words of someone who should be long gone. _Bloody hell_.

"Apparently, I'm good enough to fool even my wife. If they haven't caught on yet, we should be in the clear."

_Should have known the bloody Dark One was behind this_. Killian felt a rage he hadn't in centuries. _Why didn't Regina tell us?_ Not only was Rumplestiltskin arrogant enough to think he wouldn't get caught, but he thought he could take advantage of people he'd known for years. And now he was poaching on Killian's hard-won connections. _Coward_.

"I'm with Cruella; I think you enjoy the height."

It was all Killian could do to contain his laughter at that, especially when the Dark One didn't immediately respond. It reminded him of their first encounter, all those years ago—"_a tad taller than you'd described_" came to mind.

Killian saw Ursula come into view at the ship's railing, scanning the harbor. The Dark One joined her shortly. "What are you searching for?" Rumplestiltskin asked.

"I heard a rumour there was a merman out here." _Shit_. "If he's still here, perhaps we can use him."

"How?"

"Bait. Temptation. The options are endless, when you think about it. If the Savior feels betrayed by her man, she may be looking for a rebound."

The water began to churn around him; the storm had to be getting closer, but he couldn't leave until he had heard more of their plan. There was no doubt now they were after Emma; but why? Worry began to creep in, paired with anger.

"She certainly moved on from my son to the pirate quick enough." _Of course he'd think that; he knows nothing_. "I think you're on to something, dearie."

_They think I'm dead_. He didn't know if that thought gave him any relief, but at least this idea of Ursula's would never come to fruition.

"So you're staying here now?"

"Shouldn't a captain stay in his quarters?"

_MY quarters!_ Killian's emotions continued to build inside like an inferno, matching the waves in the harbor. He watched as the water began crashing against the _Roger_'s hull, drawing Ursula's attention.

But before he could see or hear anything else, something grabbed his tail and pulled him under the surface.

He turned about, searching for his assailant. "Who the hell—"

"Would you cut that out? Some of us are trying to swim here." A familiar female voice sounded behind him. He faced her.

"Hook?"

"Ariel?"

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	9. Call It Magic

"Hook?"

"Ariel?"

Ariel's look of shock quickly turned to one of amusement. "Well, this is quite a change." She looked him up and down. "Who did you anger this time?"

He scratched behind his ear. "Believe it or not, this isn't a curse."

Ariel's face quickly grew confused, and she tilted her head as if asking a question.

"It turns out my father was a merman. Ursula threw me in to the sea unconscious, and...well, you can see what happened."

"I've never heard of that happening," she said. "Merpeople have mixed with humans before, obviously, but the children are usually just human."

"Guess there's a first for everything." Then it hit him: _I'm talking to Ariel_. "Wait, what are you doing here? I thought you were living happily ever after with your prince." (There was a bit more venom to his words than he had intended.)

"I had been, but I was trapped in the bottle. After you traded your ship to Blackbeard, he began terrorizing people, including the royal family of Arendelle. Their queen put the ship in the bottle as punishment."

"Elsa did that?" _Impressive_.

Ariel nodded. "Unfortunately, I was trying to stop him and got swept up in it all. So...thanks for freeing me."

"My pleasure, lass. Can I ask, though: why are you still here?"

"I wanted to make sure it fell back into the right hands. I thought you'd take it, but then you disappeared; Ursula and the Dark One have been there ever since."

He clenched his fist in anger. "Bloody bastard." Overhead, the water swirled, grabbing his attention; _the storm must be nearing_.

"You need to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" _What the devil is she talking about?_

"Calm down with the water works!"

"Lass, I've no clue what you're talking about."

"You haven't noticed that you can control water?"

His eyes grew wide and his brow furrowed. "...What?"

"Yeah. Mermaids can control portals, but mermen can manipulate water."

_Bloody hell, I have magic. As if I needed one more thing thrown at me_. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It made sense, though—any time he'd been particularly emotional (usually angry), the water around him seemed to reflect that. But whereas he didn't have a choice but to accept his physical changes, this was one he intended to ignore. It was just too much.

"Most people would be a little more excited to find out they had powers," Ariel commented.

"Yes, well, most people haven't had the past few days I've had."

Quietly, Ariel asked, "Did you just find out about your father?"

He nodded. "Aye."

An awkward silence came over them, until he decided it was time to not be in the harbor anymore. Even if Ursula's powers weren't full-strength, he worried that she might notice the presence of two merfolk nearby. "I found a cove that's relatively secluded; you're welcome to come with me there, if you'd like; unless you plan on heading home."

"It seems like you could use my help."

"Follow me, then."

They traveled in quiet, until he couldn't be anymore—the guilt he still felt over their last encounter was gnawing at him again. "Ariel, allow me to apologize for how I behaved when we last saw each other. I thought my ship could replace a broken heart, but I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

She took in his statement. "Apology accepted." Then, after a pause, "Was it worth it? Did you find your love?"

"Aye, that I did." As much as he felt ashamed of what he'd done to Ariel, he wouldn't change it in a heartbeat—it allowed him to get back to Emma.

"Where is she?"

"The same place your prince is; on dry land." _Wait...on dry land_. "How are you able to be with him?"

"Regina gave me an enchanted bracelet; as long as I have it on, I have legs. But it's with Eric right now."

_Blast_. "You know of no other way to transform?"

"I'm afraid not."

If a mermaid didn't know, then he had little hope anything at the library would—but Belle could find out anything, if given enough time.

Thankfully, they had arrived at the cove; he just wanted to sleep and avoid thinking about any further revelations or more dead ends.

He watched as Ariel surveyed a kelp bed before settling down into it.

"Is that comfortable?" he asked.

"It's not a mattress, but it's the next best thing down here."

Thinking it unsafe to go above, he found another grouping of the plant and laid down. It was surprisingly soft—much more so than the rocks. _At least I'll sleep well_.

Before he drifted off, his mind wandered to the shell he'd been holding on to. He had no idea what time it was (the moonlight cutting through the water only suggested 'late'), but he thought it worth a try.

He whispered into it, "Emma?" and waited to see if he'd get a response.

It took a minute, but one came. "Killian?"

It had only been a few hours, but the sound of her voice brought him joy. "How are you, love?"

"I'm fine; about to go to bed. You?"

"Aye, the same." He sighed. "But Swan, I have to tell you something: Gold is back."

He thought he heard her gasp. "Are you sure?"

"Positive; and I suspect that's who's been impersonating me." Worry then crept into his voice. "I fear he may be after you."

She sighed. "It makes sense. We'll meet in the morning to discuss it, ok?"

"Alright."

"Sleep well, Killian."

"You too, Swan."

Despite his worries, sleep came fast, and before long he heard his name coming from the shell again. Waiting on the rocky shore were Emma, her parents, and Belle.

"Ariel?"

"Snow!"

The two women shared a long but wet embrace, but Killian stopped paying attention when he felt warm arms wrap around him from behind immediately after sitting.

"Good morning," Emma said quietly.

"Morning, love." He turned his head to meet hers in a too-short kiss that tasted like coffee; she laughed when he licked his lips after. _Gods, I could go for that_. The food and drink here was very different from what he was used to, but coffee had quickly become one of his favorite things. (Though it _may _have had something to do with their new morning traditions.)

As if reading his mind, Emma said, "Don't worry—I got you some. Granny sends her regards." _I'll bet the old minx does_, he thought as Emma presented him with a cup and a to-go bag before sitting down next to him. The hot liquid was a welcome change from the constant cool of the ocean.

He saw Belle out of the corner of his eye and was about to greet her when she quickly avoided his eyes. "Weren't you taught it's rude to stare?" he said with a smile.

She glanced back up. "Well, it's not every day your friends acquire tails."

"Fair enough."

She finally smiled back, though he could tell something was troubling her. He wanted to talk to her, but David began speaking.

"Alright, before we attract any unwanted attention, let's get this going. Hook, tell us exactly what you saw last night."

As he relayed the story, he noticed the expression on Belle's face grew increasingly grim.

"Ok. Belle, you still have the dagger in a safe place, right?" David asked.

Belle swallowed, looking uneasy. "Actually, that's part of why I needed to come here. Killian, was that you who interrupted my date with Will a few nights ago?"

He knew Belle and the thief were seeing each other, and while he wasn't thrilled about it, he wasn't one to deny either of them happiness. "I don't recall catching you out with him ever, so no."

"I thought so." She shook her head, and told the story of what happened that night with who she thought was Killian and the dagger. Sadly, she said, "It must have been him. Even when I thought he couldn't deceive me any more, he found a way."

A large wave broke against the beach not far from them, making Emma and Snow jump. _Still taking advantage of his own wife. Bloody demon_.

"Hook," Ariel called out to him in a warning tone, knowing full well that wave was his fault—and this time, he did, too; now that he knew about his capabilities, he was starting to feel the water as an extension of his body, despite his desire to ignore that.

But he feigned ignorance. "What?" he spat out. _How could I be expected to keep my anger in check when that man walks free?_

"You know _what_. Calm down before you drown everyone."

All eyes were on him now; he began to feel the heat of embarrassment. Emma squeezed his arm. "Killian, what is she talking about?"

He had no idea what to say, partly due to nerves and partly out of stubborn avoidance. So Ariel spoke up in his stead.

"Mermen have the ability to manipulate water, but Hook here hasn't quite figured it out."

"Really? Killian, that was you?" He could hear the amusement in Emma's voice.

"Aye," he nodded, looking down, hoping she'd pick up from his brief answer that it wasn't something he wished to further discuss.

"We'll talk about it later, then." _Good_. She reached down to squeeze his hand, and he looked up to meet her eyes, hopefully saying _thank you_ with his expression.

"Alright, does anyone have any ideas on what to do about Gold, or why he's after Emma?" David retook command of the conversation, directing it back to the task at hand. However, his statement received nothing but glances and shrugs in response.

"Maybe Regina knows?" Snow suggested.

"It's a start," Emma replied. "We should probably head back into town, then."

Emma's word was all they needed to start heading away from the beach, but he grabbed her hand a little tighter before she started to follow. "Swan, please promise me you'll stay safe."

In the past, she might have brushed off his concern, but she met his eyes with stern resolve and nodded. He knew she could handle herself, but he couldn't help but feel on edge where the Dark One was concerned. "You too, ok?"

He could see the worry in her eyes that mirrored his own. "I will." She leaned in for a quick parting kiss, and then stood to follow her parents.

Belle had lingered, waiting for Emma, so he called out to her. "Have you found anything, Miss Belle?"

She came a bit closer, so she wouldn't have to yell. "I'm afraid not, yet, but I did find a book on merpeople last night. I'm going to start looking at it when I get back to the library."

It did little to placate him, but he could pretend to have hope if she did. "You'll let me know what you find?"

"Of course, Killian," she said with a smile, reminding him how nice it was to have someone else in this town look past his moniker. "Take care."

"Take care," he echoed, and watched her, too, leave the beach, leaving him alone with Ariel.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Bugger if I know," he replied, before falling somewhat melodramatically back into the water.

Under the water, she found him. Smiling, she said, "Come on; I'll show you some things."

He raised an eyebrow in response.

"Mermaid things!"

* * *

Belle had found the beat-up tome hiding behind a much larger book that reminded her of Henry's storybook. The navy blue leather was worn at the edges, and there were only hints of the gold foil that had once adorned the cover, but she could still make out the embossed designs. It must have been beautiful at one point; it was covered with images of shells and all manner of sea life, and the title _Merfolk _was featured prominently in an elegant typeface, flanked by small drawings of the subject creatures.

She found it the night before, but had only been able to start looking through it today. Honestly, it was a welcome distraction, especially after the news of her husband's return—and deception. She and Killian had made amends and fallen into an easy friendship; the fact that her husband would abuse that as a means to his own ends made her stomach turn. _I should have known; all the signs were there_. But instead of kicking herself, she threw herself into research.

The book was filled with information, drawings, and history; but not one mention of anyone changing forms. There were plenty of stories of humans interacting with mermaids, and few of them having children, but they were always one or the other. And she had yet to find any evidence of a merman coming ashore.

She began skimming—as interesting as the stories were, they weren't helping. _And I miss my friend_; she'd gotten very used to having him around in the six weeks of calm, so now things seemed awfully quiet in the library. Will did visit each day, but he wasn't quite as interested in the books as Killian was.

Suddenly, a story caught her eye. She read it quickly, and then again for good measure. It didn't answer the question they were asking, but it certainly answered some others. _And it might just give him some hope_—something she noticed he was sorely lacking this morning.

A smile growing on her face, she quickly pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Emma? Can you meet me here? I think I found something."

* * *

_Thanks for reading, you fabulous people!_


	10. Story Time

_Happy OUAT Sunday, friends! Fair warning: this chapter might get emotional._

* * *

Ariel's idea of "mermaid things" had left Killian a bit exhausted come midday. Most of it was just diving to the bottom of the cove and doing flips and other tricks, but then she'd insisted he try to hone his magic.

_My magic. I have magic_. Granted, it was a bit limited—nothing like Swan's—but still. He had magic.

He'd gathered enough from Emma and Regina's interactions to understand the need to channel emotions into whatever you were trying to do. So he did his best at that, but really had only managed to slam a few waves onto the beach and create a couple tiny whirlpools.

He had to admit: it felt good. It hummed in his veins and matched the currents around him (or maybe it was vice-versa). But it wasn't without internal conflict, because he had seen how powers could corrupt a soul, and he'd walked the path of darkness well enough without the added temptation of magic.

When the sun reached its peak overhead, Ariel decided it was high time to visit her prince, but promised to return shortly. Watching her create and travel through a portal was something else; obviously, he'd been through more than his fair share, but seeing one like that underwater, leading only to more blue, was an intriguing sight.

And so, somewhat worn out, he found himself stretched out on one of the smoother rocks in the cove, enjoying the feel of the warm sun on his cool skin. The rock also gave off the heat it had absorbed; it wasn't a kelp bed, but it felt almost nice enough to induce sleep.

In fact, he was near drifting off, hand and hook supporting his head, when he heard..._giggling?_

He turned his head in the direction of the sound and opened an eye. Emma and Belle were standing together, both looking at Emma's phone, which was elevated in front of her face in a manner that usually indicated she was taking one of those instant portraits.

"Must you?" he asked, a bit annoyed that they'd be trying to record the novelty of it all.

Both women's smiles softened a bit at his tone. "Killian, do you have any idea what you look like?" Belle asked. He just raised an eyebrow as he sat up.

Emma came over to sit next to him, tapping at her phone. "Look," she said, angling the device toward him. "Killian, you're beautiful."

It wasn't the first time she'd told him that—and he knew his looks were striking—but this was the first time he'd truly believed it. Looking at the image, he saw the way the sun glinted off his golden scales and highlighted his dark hair; his tattoos gave an attractive edge. It was a bit breathtaking, if he was honest, and he didn't quite know how to react to thinking that about himself. He could feel his cheeks going red.

"So you just like me for my body, eh, Swan?" he joked to deflect.

"Killian, this is what I see whenever I look at you, tail or legs," she replied with sincerity. "I know you're a fan of your dark leather, but you are truly a source of light for me; and right now, you really look like it."

He couldn't hold it in any more, so he reached for her face and brought it in for a luxurious kiss of thanks; it had been far too many years since he'd been considered "light" of any kind.

And if Emma believed it, he supposed he could, too.

Belle clearing her throat broke them from their reverie, making him blush a little harder (Emma, too). He sent Belle a sheepish glance. "Sorry." She smirked in reply.

"So, where's your mermate?" Emma asked.

"Ha ha," he sarcastically replied to her bad pun. "She went to see her prince but she'll be back soon."

"Darn, I was hoping she might be able to shed some more light on this," Belle said as she pulled an old book from her bag.

"Did you find something?" He had vowed to not get his hopes up, but Belle's seemed optimistic, and it was a bit infectious.

"I didn't find a solution, but I may have found some clues." She sat down on a nearby rock and opened to a page she'd marked with one of those sticky papers. "First off, any mention of mermen in this book says that they are far more beautiful that their female counterparts." His blush intensified, and Emma nudged him with a mischievous grin on her face. Belle just smiled and continued, "But the reason they are hardly seen, compared to mermaids, is because most sailors are men, so there's little temptation for mermen to interact with humans." She paused. "Except for one." She then turned to another page she had flagged. "Killian, you had a brother, correct?"

"Yes," he said, a bit shakily. _I wonder what Liam would say if he saw me now_.

"Ok, I had to make sure. I—I think I found the story of your father."

His eyes grew wide, and he swallowed. He could feel Emma's hand wrap around his, but he was too focused on what Belle was reading to properly respond.

She began,

"_A merman with dark hair and eyes the colour of the ocean caught sight of a woman who also had the sea in her eyes, and it was love at first sight._

"_He made a deal with a sea witch, who granted him the ability to walk on land...but only for 15 years. He intended to make the most of them though, and immediately found the woman and asked for her hand._

"_They lived in bliss, and welcomed two sons into the world who also had the ocean in their eyes. Their seaside home was full of love and happiness._

"_All too soon, though, the 15 years were up, and the merman was called back to the sea. He begged the witch to give him more time with his family. She heard his pleas and presented him a knife; if he could kill his wife, he could stay with his sons. Otherwise, he would perish._

"_With a heavy heart, he went home to spend his final evening with his family. Once the morning arrived, he disappeared into the sea, never to be seen or heard from again, leaving his wife and sons heartbroken._

"_The sea witch, in disguise, told the family that he was a fugitive and ran away to escape the law. The family never learned of his deal, his fate...or even his past."_

His heart was pounding, and he could feel tears welling in his eyes. _He didn't abandon us. He loved us_. His mind wandered back to the memory he dreamed of the other day; it now made sense why his father was so sad.

Emma's warm arms wrapped around him. "Hey, I'm here." His arms immediately reciprocated the action and his face almost instinctively buried itself in her shoulder.

_He loved us_. For so long, he had just accepted that his father was a coward who ran off. But now, knowing that the man had sacrificed his life for his family's gave him relief, but also pain that he hadn't known it for so long (that his mother and Liam never knew it)—that he had spent so many years cursing his father for no reason.

Guilt, anger, anguish, worry, heartbreak, and relief filled him at the same time; he tried to keep the tears at bay, but it was hopeless. Emma's arms tightened around him as he shook, letting out emotions he'd held back for years: for the little boy he'd been, watching for his father's return for so long before giving up; for the brother who had to become a man far too early; for the mother who had her heart broken with no warning. Even just for the frustrations of the past few days. A nagging part of his pirate bravado told him to get it together (_not in front of the ladies, mate_), but the rest of him knew and trusted that Emma and Belle would only support him.

Finally, he began to calm down, sighing. Emma was still holding tight, one arm around his waist and the other cradling his head. He was suddenly aware of the scene he must be making, and choked down what was left.

Emma turned her head to give him a gentle kiss on his temple—much like he'd done to her so many times. "Hey," he said, voice still cracking. "That's my move." She laughed gently as he sat back up.

"Belle," he said, extending his hand to the librarian. "Thank you for finding that." She eyed his hand, but then moved in for an embrace.

"It was my pleasure, Killian." He felt a bit awkward hugging back in front of Emma, but he did nevertheless. Belle was easily his best friend, outside his Swan, and her support meant almost as much to him.

She pulled back shortly. "I need to head back to the library. Do you want me to leave the book here?"

"No, I'll just get it wet."

She smiled back. "Alright then. I'll see you."

When it was just him and Emma, she looked him in the eye. "Do you want to talk about it?"

_It's now or never. And she's been in the same position_. "I'm glad to know he didn't abandon us, but I feel guilty for carrying anger toward him for so long."

"I know how that goes," she calmly replied. "It'll get better with time."

"Aye, it will; but with time."

She pulled him back into an embrace, leaning in to him as much as he was leaning back into her. They were both broken things, abandoned and then found, still putting themselves back together. But he knew that, when they were side-by-side, they'd get through anything.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, as always!_


	11. Making Good

_The response to this story continues to bring a smile to my face; I'm so glad there are people out there who are enjoying reading it as much as I'm having fun writing it! To all the guests who've left reviews: thank you!_

* * *

Ariel returned shortly after Emma left, while Killian was lounging in a kelp bed, practicing whirlpools. His magic was coming much easier now, though he wasn't sure if it was due to repetition, or the ease he was finally feeling about the whole situation that had come today with learning his father's story and with Emma's support and acceptance. He told Ariel about the book and his father.

"I've certainly been in those fins before," she responded when he had finished the tale.

"With your prince?"

"Yeah. If it wasn't for Regina, I probably would have made a similar deal." She paused, then added, "I get the feeling you've done something like that already."

Indeed he had. "If you're referring to the _Jolly Roger_, then you're correct." He barely hesitated before trading the ship to Blackbeard for the bean that brought him to New York, ignoring what it might do to his reputation, solely motivated by _her_.

Another thought had been nagging at his mind. He asked, "Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"This," he said, with a wave of his hand. "Being in the ocean, swimming." While he hated being separated from Emma, he was coming to enjoy the water more and more; it was becoming home-like again (but not completely).

She looked as if she was concentrating on her answer. "At times, yes; the ocean will always be a part of me, and I do miss my family. But if giving that up means I'm with my true love, then that's a price worth paying." Her mouth twitched into a smile. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Aye." He knew he'd do anything to be part of Emma's world (and in many ways, he had).

A million other thoughts and questions pricked at the back of his mind—some serious (_any ideas on how I regain legs?_), some trivial (_what to merfolk eat?_)—but Ariel beat him to the punch with a question of her own.

"I never heard—just how did you get thrown in the water in the first place?"

He sighed. "That." He'd been so focused on everything else the past couple days that he'd forgotten just how he ended up here in the first place. It was no surprise that the shame he'd immediately felt came trickling back in.

His mind drifted back to that afternoon. He'd thought if he could restore her happy ending, then there would be one less villain to contend with. However, once the _Jolly Roger_ was restored and the shell containing her voice was found, things fell apart. He should never have pulled the gun on her after the enchantment on her singing voice failed to reverse, but he was so desperate to get rid of her and bring some normalcy back to their lives that the darkness he had been working so hard to keep at bay found a way to slip back in.

"Because I was so focused on getting what I want, I made a promise to her I couldn't deliver." His hand drifted to his head, pushing through his free-flowing locks, as he remembered Ursula's words, and the ongoing quest in this town to find the author of Henry's book. "Maybe she was right; maybe villains can't get their happy endings."

"Maybe that's because villains always go about getting them the wrong way," Ariel gently replied.

_And she wouldn't be a villain if not for me_. His rash reaction to her father's interference in their dealings was one of the many burdens he'd carried over his long life, though he knew her relationship with her father was just as shaky as his own with the Sea King.

But then he thought of the relief he felt after today's revelations about his father. Pieces of an idea clicked together in his head.

"Tell me, what do you know of enchanted shells?"

"I know they can act as vessels, but the magic can only be undone by the one who cast it."

"That's what I thought. I'm gonna need your help."

* * *

The harbor was never the cheeriest place, even with the _Jolly Roger_ gracing the view, but his nerves and the grey sky made it all the more dreary.

He had let Emma know the plan as soon as he and Ariel finalized it, and Ariel went off in search of Poseidon almost immediately.

Now it was his turn to act. _If Ursula wants to find the merman, she'll find him alright_. He would draw her to the harbor by making a scene; with any luck, she'd sense his magic right away, as he was fairly certain she was picking it up last night.

Staying under the surface, he focused in, channelling that nervous energy into something more visceral. He trained his gaze on a point above him, willing the water to jet straight up. It took a few gurgling tries, but then a fountain erupted overhead. He honestly couldn't help but smile—_I did that_.

So he made a few more, and added in some whirlpools and large waves for good measure. _There's no way she hasn't noticed this now_. Hopefully, Emma and whoever she had brought with her had found their way to the harbor as well.

He finally dared to let himself be seen, though not completely. He hovered just below the surface, then dove back down, allowing his fins to make a show above water. He waited in the depths for a bit, to see if there was any reaction from above, before attempting to do it again.

Now the water was churning, and he could feel that it wasn't him. _Finally noticed, eh?_ He flipped up and dove down again, but this time, he'd barely made it a few metres when the unfortunately familiar tentacles wrapped around his midsection, pulling him up.

When he broke through the surface, he was facing away from the docks—Ursula couldn't see his face just yet. Cockily, she called out, "Thought you could stay away from a sea witch, merman?"

His body jerked as she quickly turned him around to face her. He had a hard time keeping a smug expression off his face as he watched hers change from confidence to confusion once she realized who she was holding on to.

"How are you still breathing?" she angrily called, from her position at the end of the dock, and began to squeeze just a little harder. He could see Cruella lurking not far behind her.

"Well, I'm good at surviving. Or you're bad at killing; either one."

"But...how?"

"As it turns out, we have a bit more in common than we thought, you and I."

"You're...half?"

_Finally; someone understands_. "Congratulations; you're the first to figure it out on your own. Now, if you'd kindly unhand me, I have some information you might find interesting." She was squeezing a bit tighter, sure to leave bruises (though they wouldn't last long).

"Why should I listen to you again?"

"Because you don't need the author to get what you want. You do, however, have to answer a question for me." It was getting harder to breathe; _take my bloody deal already_.

His comment about the author had the desired effect; he could see her contemplating the offer. Behind her, Cruella called out, "He's bluffing!" But Ursula ignored the comment. "What is it you want to know?"

"The Dark One's plans."

"And you'll give me my happy ending?"

"Aye," he strained to say.

After a moment's gaze, she unceremoniously let go, watching him fall back into the ocean.

He felt air return to his lungs (still something of a novelty underwater), and briefly inspected the purple rings left by her tentacles that now adorned his torso; some were already beginning to fade, thankfully. He glanced around, searching for a sign of Ariel—and receiving affirmation—before resurfacing.

He saw the familiar yellow Bug kill its engine in the background, and Emma and her parents rushed out, heading to the dock. Cruella attempted to intercept them, but Emma threw her back with magic.

"Ok, Hook. Talk," Ursula spat.

"I know why you couldn't release your voice from that shell. Only the one who enchanted it can do that."

"Wait...you don't mean?" Realization dawned on her face.

"Aye."

As if on cue, Poseidon rose through the water on the back of a wave. _And I thought I liked theatrics_. The wave deposited the god on the dock next to his daughter.

Killian watched on as the two reconciled, breaking his focus only when Ariel appeared next to him.

The beautiful voice that had soothed Killian's tortured soul so long ago sounded through the air as it returned to its rightful owner, just as lovely now as it was then. Ursula had found her happy ending, reunited with both her voice and her father.

Underwater, he felt a squeeze on his forearm. Ariel was giving him a proud grin, which he halfway returned. It did bring him joy to see Ursula's returned, but it was a tad bittersweet, knowing he would never have the same with his father.

"Hook," Ursula called out. He swam over. "Thank you, she said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. The Charming clan had gathered closer. "Now I have to hold up my end of the deal. Gold's plan—I'm afraid it involves Emma. She's the only way he can secure happy endings for the villains." All eyes fell on Emma, whose own grew large with incredulity.

"I thought you wanted the Author to rewrite everyone's stories," he said.

"It's not that simple. The author can't just change things in this world because he didn't give people their happy endings here."

A wave of realization hit the group. "Emma did."

"She's the Savior, and as long as there's a savior, the Author can't give the villains what they really want, and the Dark One knows this."

He swallowed, afraid to know what that meant, but having to ask. "The Dark One's gonna try to kill Emma?"

"Worse. He plans to fill her heart with darkness. Forever."

_No_. The weight of the statement pulled his stomach down to his fin. Emma was all that was good and light and pure in this world. He looked at her, disbelief written across her face. He could see her parents whispering in the background.

Finally, Emma spoke. "That's insane," she said, albeit shakily. "If that's what their plan is, stop worrying—it's ridiculous. Author or no author, I am not going dark." He couldn't tell if she said that for their comfort or her own, but her confidence was a bit comforting. However, he knew how easy it was to fall down that path, and that nothing good ever came from it. He'd do all in his power to keep her from that pain.

"Then I can only hope you find the Author before he does," Ursula said. "They're quite determined."

"We're good at finding people. That's what this family does," David said. Killian could tell the prince was just as resolved as he was to keep Emma from such a fate.

An uneasy silence fell on the group as everyone contemplated what Ursula had just revealed, until finally, Poseidon announced that they would be making their exit.

"Allow me to escort you out, sir," he said.

"So now you're a gentleman?" Ursula answered with a smirk.

He glanced back at Emma, who was rolling her eyes. "I'm always a gentleman," he said with a wink. Though he did have a bit of a personal agenda.

They reached the point underwater where Ariel had created the portal that brought her and the Sea King through. But before Ursula could create the opening that would take them home, Killian spoke up.

"Poseidon," he called out. "Sir," he added cautiously.

"Yes, Captain?"

"May I have a word?"

"I think you've earned that."

Killian swallowed. _No need to be scared, mate_; but his nervous scratch made an appearance anyway. "Is there...do you know of a way...if it's possible..."

"You wish to become human again?"

"Aye," he breathed. He didn't know why it was so hard to form the words.

"Sad to say, it takes an enchanted object to work. I have in my possession several that work on mermaids, but it takes a different kind of magic for mermen. Only one such object ever existed, and it disappeared long ago; there simply hasn't been a need for one since."

That was not the answer he was hoping for, but one he had come to expect. "I understand. Thank you, though."

"Captain?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I have seen many things, but never a situation such as yours. I have to believe, though, that it would be easier for a half-merman to become human than a full merperson. So...good luck."

"Thank you."

With a heavier heart, he watched as father and daughter proceeded through their portal to whatever happiness waited for them.

A hand met his shoulder. "You'll find a way," Ariel said.

He nodded, but his faith wasn't quite as strong as hers.

"I'm afraid I need to leave as well."

"Aye; your prince has waited long enough." His smile was genuine—Ariel certainly deserved her happy ending, with all the blockages she'd encountered. "Your help has been most appreciated."

"It was my pleasure...Killian. Take care."

"And you."

Her green fin disappeared through another portal with a flourish. He could tell the churning water around him this time was not a result of the twisting portal magic but from his own conflicting emotions. He took a moment to compose himself before resurfacing, where Emma was waiting by herself, seated at the end of the dock.

"Where are your parents?"

"Cruella disappeared; they went to track her."

"You didn't go with them?"

"I wanted to see you."

"You know I'm here whenever you need me."

"I know. But I wanted to make sure you knew that it goes both ways."

Whatever angst he'd been feeling went away, replaced with a swell of adoration. The sea below him matched the feeling, with a well-controlled wave raising him to Emma's eye level, where he cupped her face with his hand and placed a loving kiss on her mouth.

Their foreheads stayed connected even after their lips separated. "Nice trick," Emma said breathily.

"Which one?"

She smirked back, before placing her hands on his shoulders and gently pushing away so she could meet his gaze. "I think this calls for a date."

"And how do you propose that?"

"Leave it to me; just meet me on the beach tonight."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, my love."

If he made a bit of a show with his tail when he left, well, could anyone blame him?

* * *

Cruella was out of breath when she reached the cabin, where Regina, Maleficent, and Rumplestiltskin waited.

"We have a problem," she eventually breathed out.

"Where's Ursula?" Regina asked.

"That's only half of it. That pirate actually managed to get Ursula her happy ending; she just left town with her father."

"But how? She got rid of him," Maleficent chimed in; no one noticed Regina glance down at a spot on the floor.

"Well, he has a fin now, so make of that what you will."

"So HE was the merman she was after?" Rumplestiltskin asked, to no one in particular.

"Guess you just lost your new hangout," Regina added.

"That's only half of it," Cruella continued. "They know you're here, and before she left, she told them the plan."

The Dark One was momentarily lost in thought. "Makes no matter. Perhaps we just use some new...tactics."

* * *

_Thanks for reading, awesome people! Let me know what you're thinking!_


	12. Kiss the Girl

_Hello friends! Here's another update :) __Please bear with me; things get a bit cheesy in this one, but I couldn't resist.  
_

_If you're curious how this all got started, or just want to see some other fun stuff related to this story, check out the mermaid!Killian tag on my tumblr (URL is spartanguard)._

* * *

"Hey, I'm here," Emma's voice sounded through the shell.

"I'll be right up, love."

He had to admit, he was quite curious as to what Emma had planned for the evening. She claimed she could plan a date, but he knew he was the more romantic of the two.

So he was rather surprised to see what she had set up: a blanket was spread out on the beach and a small fire burned nearby, no doubt conjured by Emma. Her music machine was emitting tunes quietly, and he recognized food containers from Granny's. She was sitting to one side, hugging her knees, with the full moon and fire illuminating her face in a way that was both haunting and unearthly beautiful.

It was perfect.

He'd mastered control of the waves enough now to maneuver himself onto the beach, but because he didn't want to disrupt her display, he ended up falling a bit farther away than desired and gracelessly rolled to the edge of the blanket.

"Killian! Are you ok?"

He laughed it off. "I'm fine, love." Even he could see the humour in it as he sat up and brushed the sand off with Emma's help.

"I know it's not the fanciest food, but—"

"It's fantastic, Swan."

Her hands found their way from his chest, where she'd been clearing sand, to his face, cupping his chin and pulling him in to her lips (he could tell she'd already been sipping her hot chocolate).

She broke away, smiling at him. The moonlight highlighted the jade in her eyes more than normal, and amusement made them twinkle as she ran her thumb over his scar and scruff.

"Your beard is getting longer," she said with a smirk.

He reached up and ran his hand along his chin, surprised he hadn't noticed, as he was usually quite meticulous where his facial hair was concerned—though, he supposed, he _had _been a bit preoccupied the past few days.

"It's red," she continued, almost laughing.

"Yeah; what of it?"

"It's weird. Your hair is so dark."

"Do you not like it?"

She ran her hand over it again, smiling. "It suits you."

He leaned in for another chocolate-flavored peck before digging into their meal.

Despite the unusual circumstances, it all felt surprisingly normal. No Dark One; no plot for anyone's heart—just he and Emma, enjoying a moonlit picnic on the beach and each other's company.

Dinner consumed and dessert halfway gone (which was probably as far as it would get, given the massive size of the slices of Granny's cake), they lay back on the blanket, his hand supporting his head and her head resting on his chest, staring at the many stars dotting the sky. _I could lay here forever_.

They stayed like that for a while, he occasionally pointing out constellations he had learned, and her showing him the faintest outline of the Milky Way. The low hum of the music set a relaxing backdrop to a peaceful night he hoped would never end.

The music changed, and he actually recognized the next song—she'd played it numerous times on various outings in her Bug. He had a somewhat crazy idea, but he wanted to give it a try.

"Swan, would you care to dance?"

She turned her head to look up at him incredulously. "And how do you propose that?" But she didn't shut him down or write it off as impossible; that confidence bolstered his desire to try.

"Hold on one second." He gently sat up, careful not to knock her, and positioned himself off the blanket. Gazing at the water, he called a wave to him, and slid into it as it rose back up. It took a bit of focus, but he was able to use it to lift him, as if he were standing.

Now upright, he extended his hand to Emma. "May I have this dance, your highness?"

A grin broke across her face as she stood and placed her hand in his. "You may."

She placed a warm hand on his shoulder, and took his hook in her right hand. His hand found his way to her waist, holding her close, and they began to sway to the music. Her bare feet dug into the wet sand (she had abandoned her trademark boots early in the evening), leaving behind footprints. It wasn't a waltz, like they had done in the Enchanted Forest a few months (decades?) ago, but it was just as magical.

He couldn't help but notice that the lyrics in the song perfectly matched the setting. Quietly, he sang along,

"_Here we go head first, no regrets _

_And no rules; we can stay as long as we want_

_Slow dancing in the darkness_

_And all I know is I wanna be here with you from now on_

_Headfirst into the water…_"

"So is that a mermaid thing? Being able to sing?" Emma quipped.

"I suppose so."

They were both so caught up in the moment, he hardly noticed that they were now out where the water would normally be a few meters deep, the sand giving way to a rocky sea bed. He had somehow managed to keep the water at bay, keeping her on land. But he longed for her to experience the joy of swimming alongside him.

"Emma, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"...Do you mind getting a bit wet."

Her mouth turned up at one corner. "I suppose not."

"Ok; hold on." He pulled her in close with both arms, and she wrapped hers around his neck. Closing his eyes to focus, he let the cool water surround him, squeezing her even tighter when he felt her flinch at the initial shock.

And then they were floating, adrift in the ocean he was coming to feel more and more comfortable in, his sure arms keeping her body next to his.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm good," she smiled. "You know, you're getting pretty good with your magic."

"I had a good example to follow."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he breathed with a small smile.

He slid his hand and hook down her back, continuing down until they found the back of her legs (and not missing a curve in between), then guiding her legs to wrap around his waist, which lifted her up to a much more opportune position.

"What's that about?" she breathed.

"So I can kiss you," he stated.

He leaned in to her lips, slow at first, but then hungrily, tasting the sweetness on her mouth and tongue. Even in the water, the heat she gave off was intoxicating, and he pulled her as close as possible, the warmth permeating his chest and core. One of her hands found the back of his head and he could feel her fingers running through his hair; it felt impossibly amazing. Her other hand drifted to his chest, just over his heart (and tattoo), as it had so many times in the past several weeks.

_Just keep holding on, holding on to me…_ The words again caught his ear, continuing to match the setting perfectly as he held his Swan in his arms, oblivious to the world around them. Her face had found the crook of his neck and she was holding tight, placing gentle kisses that made his skin tingle, and he breathed in her scent which was now mixed with that of the salt water around him. There were no barriers: just he and Emma, in perfect bliss.

He almost didn't realize she was trembling. "Swan, are you alright?"

"I'm-m fi-ine," she stammered out. The heat he loved so much was suddenly noticeably missing, and he nudged her chin from his neck so he could look her in the eye.

His heart sunk. She was shivering, and he lips held a bluish tint that wasn't just from the moonlight—it was eerily reminiscent of the pallor she had after emerging from Elsa's ice cave.

"Swan, you're freezing. I'll get you to shore." _You're a bloody idiot, mate; thinking she could handle this_. She tried to protest, but he wasn't about to let her get hypothermia as a result of his own stupidity.

He had never swam faster in his life, and somehow managed to land ashore much more gracefully than his first attempt; he wondered if his panic made it easier to focus. He made sure to get her as close as possible to the fire, and got the blanket wrapped around her as best he could with limited mobility. He could tell from the white light emitting from her hands that she was adding heat to the fire, and it looked like she was drying her clothes.

But he still felt a prize fool for putting her through that. "I'm sorry, Swan; that was so stupid of me."

"Don't even think that, Killian; I'm fine."

"I put you in danger, and I didn't even think—"

"It's certainly not the first time my life has been at risk."

"It was selfish and dumb."

"Well, I enjoyed it!"

"Until you nearly turned into an icicle!" Frustrated, he ran a hand through his surprisingly dry hair (it had been a long time since that could be said of any part of his body). Many of the thoughts that had been haunting him since long before this ordeal began to sneak in. "I should have known…" he started.

"Should have known what?"

He sighed. "With all this talk of authors and the book, we've never discussed one fact: that I was a villain."

"But you're not anymore. Look what you did today: you gave Ursula everything she ever wanted."

"But I almost didn't, love. I was so desperate to get rid of their threat, I almost became the man I used to be. You have no idea how easy it is to fall back into the darkness. It creeps up on you." The weight of the Dark One's plans for Emma began to sink in just then. "And if they intend to darken your heart, Emma, I couldn't—"

"Hey, no one—not Rumplestiltskin or some author—gets to decide who I am. And you—" she placed a hand on his bicep—"you didn't go back to your old ways. I told you, Killian: you're a good guy now."

"The same could be said for Regina, but she still lost her happy ending." He sighed. "If we're to believe the rules of the book, then it's only a matter of time until I lose mine."

Her eyes grew large; almost child-like. "Wait, if you're afraid of losing your happy ending, that means you found it." With trepidation in her voice, she asked, "What is it?"

"Don't you know, Emma?" _How could she not?_ "It's you." He could feel tears threatening to escape his eyes yet again today, but the idea of losing Emma without her knowing how much he cared for her was too much to bear.

She looked equal parts relieved and terrified; he knew that no one had ever admitted something like that to her, and for a moment feared her flight instinct would kick in. But to his eternal relief, she leaned into him, pausing as their foreheads met, then allowing her actions to speak for her as her lips met his. It wasn't a kiss filled with fire or longing; it instead carried all of the emotions that she felt but couldn't put into words. As upset as he was, he found himself again wishing the night could go on endlessly.

When they parted, he noticed a lone tear on her cheek; he half smiled, and reached across to brush it away. She gave a soft smile in return, and took his hand in hers (he was relieved to feel heat again emitting from her palm).

Things must have been too quiet, though, because her phone went off just then. She answered, "Mom? Yeah, I'm with Killian. O-ok, I'll be right there." A look of confusion formed on her brow as she ended the call.

"What is it, love?"

"My parents need to talk to me."

"Best not keep them waiting."

He helped her pack up what she'd brought, and watched as she put her boots back on. Before she left, she knelt next to him for a good-night kiss and embrace. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it."

"I'll miss you."

He smiled. "And I you."

He watched as she made her way to the opening in the mine, before being overcome by frustration. He called the surf to him, and angrily entered the ocean, mad at himself and the situation.

_How could I do that to her? Stupid arse_. He was leaving angry waves in his wake, but he didn't really care, ashamed and upset. _Just when I thought things would be alright. Of course not_.

_I completely understand why my father did what he did_. Killian was almost willing to make a deal with the Dark One if it gave him legs again..._almost_.

Tired of the maelstrom he was creating in the cove, and having lost track of time, he retired to a kelp bed to mull over the day. Poseidon had mentioned an object that was long lost, and he knew Ariel and Ursula had enchanted beaded cuffs. _Cuff_...his mind wandered to the old leather cuff his father had left behind. _Could it…?_

But his thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from his shell.

"Killian?" Emma sounded panicked.

"Emma, what is it?" Her tone scared him.

"Killian, I just...I need you."

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you're thinking!_

_The song in this chapter is "Aquaman" by Walk The Moon. It's pretty awesome; I highly recommend checking it out!_


	13. Finding Happy

_Sorry for there only being one update this week; I had to figure out some things down the road, but it should be back to two updates next week._

_This chapter kind of overlaps the ending of the previous one, but then picks up where it left off._

* * *

She could hear waves slamming against the beach that he was no doubt causing. She'd done her best to try to assuage his guilt and self-doubt, but there was only so much she could do against centuries of self-loathing in a short period of time. Still, it pained her to have to leave him in that condition, especially after what he'd just revealed.

_"Don't you know, Emma? It's you."_

_I'm his happy ending._ When he brought it up, she hadn't dared to hope it might be her (he HAD just gotten his ship back, after all). She thought she knew his level of adoration, but clearly didn't know the depths. That she would ever be considered anyone's happy ending, outside of her family (and even then, she wasn't certain), had never crossed her mind.

She continued to muse on it on the drive back to the loft. Since Neal, her instinct with any kind of declaration like that was to run, the lone exception being Walsh (_which CLEARLY ended well_).

But she hadn't felt that in ages with Killian. When they first met, yes—because not only was he attractive, he understood her, and she didn't trust him or herself enough to not get hurt.

That seemed a lifetime ago, though, and he had proven time and time again that he was someone she could rely on, could befriend..._could love_.

And for the first time, she didn't fight back the urge to run. She didn't have to—it wasn't even there. She should have been completely terrified—and a tiny part of her was—but she felt more sure than she ever had in a relationship.

It didn't matter if he had a fin, or a tail, or legs—this was it.

That thought made her smile, more than she had in a long time. _If only he was here to see it—to know how he's making me feel_. She wore it all the way from the parking lot up to the loft, not bothering (or able) to hide it in front of her parents.

"Well, looks like someone had a nice date!" her mother gushed.

"Yeah; it was great."

"How is he doing? After everything today?"

His anguish drifted back to the forefront of memory, dulling her happiness a bit. "It was a long day. He still needs some time to...process."

"I can't think of a better place to do it. For a second, when I had a fin, it seemed like it would be the greatest thing in the world—just swim away from everything in peace." She could tell her mom was chattering nervously, but that thought hadn't struck her: what if he didn't want to change back?

She shook that off; _there's no way_. Her dad walked in from the nursery and her mother continued whatever she was doing in the kitchen. "So what was it you guys wanted to talk to me about?"

Her parents exchanged a cautious glance, and her father sat down at the dining table. "We need to tell you something."

She took a seat across from him, now more concerned than curious. It wasn't like them to be dodgy like this. Her mother set a mug of hot cocoa in front of her before sitting down. "We haven't been completely honest about something. It's about Maleficent."

The story her parents told her was almost unbelievable: that they had separated a child from its mother on the off chance that she would go dark. They had doubted her even before she left the womb, and sent Maleficent's baby to an unknown fate. And it was them who had sought to eliminate the witch, but ended up resurrecting her anyway. All so Emma might be good, trusting magic to do what they—and Emma—could have done on their own.

In an instant, one of her pillars of foundation had crumbled. Her gut had proven her right, but at a horrible cost. "This whole time, I was right. You were lying." She had to pause to collect herself, but betrayal was bubbling to the surface. "I wanted to believe you. I wanted to believe in you."

"We were just...trying to protect you," her father said.

"How...how could you? How could you have so little faith in me?"

"Emma," her father said, reaching across the table for her hand. She yanked it away before he could, anger and a touch of heartbreak rising in her throat. Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. Undeterred, David continued. "It's one incident from our past."

"Don't down play it," she snapped back.

"Emma, we've changed," her mother chimed in. "We've tried to become the parents you deserve."

She took a deep breath. "If what I'm understanding is correct, then I'm only the savior because you altered the entire state of my being at the expense of someone else's soul." She was trying her hardest to keep an existential crisis at bay.

She couldn't be there anymore, with them both looking at her as they were: apologetic, yet not quite grasping the seriousness of their transgression.

"I've got to go." She stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair over, and made for the door.

Snow followed her, pleading. "Please, stop. I'm your mother."

"I don't care." She regretted the words almost as soon as she said them, but was too upset to do anything about it. They had the desired effect, though, as no one tried to follow her.

She hopped in the Bug and drove, trying to clear her mind or just make some sense of what she'd learned, but she only grew more frustrated.

Without realizing it, she found herself at the docks. The sea air had always helped her think, so she got out and walked around. It had the desired effect, but it was going to take a lot to get to a point where she was ok with things...if ever.

When she saw the _Jolly Roger_, bobbing peacefully in the calm water, she knew the one thing she needed. But she hated to bother him when she knew he was dealing with his own issues. Nevertheless, she was reaching for the shell she kept in her jacket pocket soon enough.

"Killian?" she asked, with a bit more panic in her voice than she felt a second ago.

"Emma, what is it?" He responded quickly, obviously concerned. She immediately felt guilty, but there was only one way she'd find any peace tonight.

"Killian, I just...I need you."

"I'll be right there, love. Are you on the beach?"

"I'm at the docks." She had wandered to the end of the pier the _Jolly Roger_ was moored to (courtesy of Henry, as soon as she'd told him about Killian's situation). She sat down at the end, watching the gentle waves lap at the support posts, though it didn't have much of an effect on her.

In no time at all, the water in front of her was rising up on itself, carrying Killian up with it until he was seated next to her. "My love, what's wrong?" His intense blue eyes found hers immediately, filled with concern and care, and his hand quickly intertwined hers. And that was all it took for her to lose whatever grip she'd been holding on to.

Words, emotions, and tears poured out of her at the same time as she told him what her parents had just revealed. How she had believed them; how two people who she thought were heroes and good had their own share of skeletons in the closet; how she was only who she was at the cost of her, and someone else's, free will. How one of her biggest sources of support was almost gone.

He pulled her in—cautiously, at first, as if he didn't want to get her wet (she honestly didn't care at this point)—and held her tight to his strong chest. Her hand wandered the familiar path to the space above his heart, tracing the outline of his swan tattoo. She inhaled his scent, which was a bit saltier than usual but still very Killian. He placed a gentle kiss against the side of her head, and whispered, "I will always believe in you, Swan."

And for once, in the past several days, she didn't have to question her gut or wonder if her lie detector was going haywire. She knew he'd always be there for her, just as he was in this moment, without question.

They sat like that for a long time, until she had finally calmed down—as much as she could, at least. "I wish I could stay with you tonight."

"Well, if your parents don't mind me in the bathtub…"

She laughed, briefly. "I can't go back there. Not right now."

His hook ran down the length of her arm, edging her even closer to his side. "You can take my room at Granny's...or my cabin on the _Roger_."

She lifted her head from his shoulder to look in his eyes; she saw nothing but love and adoration staring back at her from under thick lashes, underlined with concern. He just offered me his home. She didn't know why she was so shocked, given what he'd told her earlier, but this was somehow more tangible. "Killian, I-I couldn't—"

"Emma, my home is always open to you. Know that." His tone told her there would be no arguing that fact. "But, my guess is you'd be a bit warmer at Granny's tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Swan. I only wish I could be there with you, to give you comfort."

She leaned into his shoulder again. "Thank you. For everything."

"Anything for you, love," he whispered.

They stayed there for a while, holding each other and watching the water, until she decided she needed to get some rest.

"Promise me you'll sleep on the bed this time, Swan," he said, half joking but also serious.

"I will." She gave him a quick kiss goodnight before finally standing and making her way back to the Bug. She started the engine and turned the lights back on, which caught a glimmering golden fin just as it dove back into the sea. She couldn't help but smile.

She had to pick the lock back at Granny's—again—but made sure to find the key in his jacket, which she had made a point to hang up after he was fished out of the harbor. She added it to her keychain, suspecting that she'd need it for a while.

As soon as she eyed the bed—still meticulously made—the length of the day caught up to her, and nothing seemed greater than collapsing on the mattress. Her boots were left in the middle of the room and her jacket was hung haphazardly on the chair she'd moved to the bedside the other day. And she collapsed, face-first, into the less-than-fluffy pillow.

Immediately, she was awash in his scent: leather, spice, and salty air. Nothing could have relaxed her more, and it felt like she was melting into the too-soft mattress. She was too exhausted to even think about a blanket, but the room was toasty enough as it was. Blissfully, sleep soon found her.

But it didn't hold on to her long enough. She was awoken by the first rays of light shining through the thin curtains. In protest, she shoved her face farther into the pillow, inhaling Killian's scent as if there was no tomorrow.

Gradually, though, the previous night's revelations seeped in. Maleficent lost her child because of her parents. Her parents, the supposed heroes. No wonder Maleficent was in town, searching for her happy ending: if it was anything like her parents', it was being reunited with her child.

_Wait...maybe that's it_. Killian had been able to grant Ursula's deepest desire, and there was one less villain running around. So maybe, just maybe, Emma could do the same for Maleficent.

Suddenly, she was wide awake, filled with a sense of duty. If she was the reason why Maleficent lost her happy ending in the first place, then she'd do her damnedest to get it back.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you're thinking!_


	14. Flying

_I think we're back to two updates a week! Woohoo!_

_Also: I'm super excited because this got a mention on tumblr in lizzyc807shipscaptainswan's April fic rec list...thank you to whoever rec'd it to her! It means a lot to me that people are enjoying this :)_

* * *

The woods surrounding Rumplestiltskin's cabin seemed like the most likely spot to find villainess, assuming the Dark One was playing host. After picking her way through the trees, Emma found a small clearing near the house, and took a deep breath to calm her sudden nerves.

"Maleficent," she called out. _She probably doesn't even hear me; what am I doing?_ "Maleficent, I...I want to help you get your happy ending."

She waited, listening. An eternity passed in a few moments of silence, but she finally heard a twig snap, and turned to face it.

Sure enough, the witch in question sauntered into the clearing. It was the first time Emma had ever seen her in human form; the blonde held a staff in one hand, which clashed with her 1940s gangster outfit. "You want to help me?" Maleficent said, incredulous. "Since when do the heroes want to help the villains?"

"Since I learned that even the heroes do bad things," Emma replied. "I'm sorry for what my parents did, and I want to make it up to you."

"YOU'RE sorry? Really?" The woman began to saunter around Emma, as if challenging her. "You have no idea what it's like to lose a child before you've even held them."

"I do, actually. I know what it's like to not know what they look like, or even what you had. I gave my son up before I could even hold him." Despite Regina's fake memories, the reality of hearing Henry's first cry and being able to do nothing for it was a memory that still haunted her.

"But you had a choice; mine was taken from me!" Maleficent grew agitated.

"I know. And that's why I wanted to help you. Let's find your child." If Gold could find Neal in New York and Henry in Neverland, then surely he could help locate Maleficent's child.

"And then what? It's been 30 years; my child could be dead, or want nothing to do with me." Hurt was beginning to show through the anger.

"But don't you want to know?"

Something in that resonated with the sorceress. Emma could see the wheels turning in her head as she contemplated it. Maleficent began to look hopeful, seemingly considering it. But then something changed, and her expression turned dark.

"No; it's too late."

"It's NEVER too late." Killian had shown Emma that—that it was always the right time to make amends, put the past behind you, and start anew.

"Oh, but it is." Maleficent began slowly walking toward Emma. "If I truly want my happy ending, it will only happen if the Savior is gone."

There was something extremely threatening about her tone, and Emma reflexively stepped back, hands at the ready to defend against any magic attack.

"Maleficent, we can do this. We can't fix it, but we can make it better."

The orb atop the witch's staff began to glow an off-putting purple color. "Too bad you won't get the chance."

A pulse emitted from the staff; Emma watched it approach her as if in slow motion, though it was too fast for her to even react.

Then, everything went black.

* * *

Maleficent stood over the so-called Savior, watching her sleep. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd cast a sleeping spell on a princess. It wasn't a curse—no need for True Love's Kiss—but she was going to make sure the victim never woke up.

The plan was to darken the Savior's heart, she knew; but that would take too much time. This would be much, much faster; the Dark One be damned.

She hadn't flown in ages, and it was going to feel so wonderful.

* * *

Killian reluctantly retired to the cove after Emma left for Granny's that night, settling in what had become his bed. It pained him to see her so upset and heartbroken, and he couldn't help but harbor some anger toward her parents (but it would have been hypocritical of him to truly chastise them, he knew).

He was sure of one thing, though: it was time to get back on land. As comfortable as he now was with life under the sea and his newfound powers, it wasn't home. _Emma is_.

His thoughts wandered again to his father's old leather cuff, which he had held on to after all these years. Was that the object Poseidon had referred to? It had certainly been missing a long time, as far as the merfolk would be concerned. If he could get it off the _Roger_...it was worth pursuing.

He slept a bit later the next day than usual, judging by the way the sun's rays drifted through the water. Normally, he was awoken by Emma; her absence slightly alarmed him, but given last night, it wasn't that surprising.

It must have been a day of rest, as most of the fishing boats were still docked in the harbor. Not a soul was in sight, either; he'd been relying on someone trustworthy being around to retrieve the cuff. _Damn_.

But as he scanned the harbor, motion on the deck of the _Roger _caught his eye. Killian started to curse the Dark One for still trying to lay claim to the ship, even though his secret was out, until Killian caught sight of who was actually aboard: Henry.

The lad was sweeping, removing some debris that must have accumulated in the past week. Killian pulled up a wave to bring him at a level with the deck, and called out.

"You swab a mighty fine deck, there." Henry jumped at first, clearly not expecting an interruption, but shock gave way to a grin when he saw who was speaking.

"I figured you wouldn't be able to, and someone needed to look after it."

"Aye; a ship only gives back what you give to her. You have my eternal thanks for watching over her, Henry."

"Did I do a good job tying her up?"

"Quite; I'm impressed, lad." Henry smiled back proudly (_as he should be; he'll be a sailor yet_).

Killian leaned forward onto the railing with his forearms, and bid Henry to come closer. "I do have a favor to ask you. Can you run below deck and fetch me something?"

"Of course," he said back, clearly eager to be of help. "What am I looking for?"

Killian began twisting his hook to remove it, pulling it off to reveal the teeth of the key it doubled as. "In my cabin, below a shelf, there's a green safe. I need you to go in it and retrieve an old leather cuff." He handed his hook to Henry and showed him how to use it to open the vault. "Got it?"

"No problem, Killian. I'll be right back."

He had just began his descent to the lower deck when a shadow fell over the harbor, and the rough sound of wind thundered from above. Instinctively following the noise, Killian drew his attention up to the source of the disturbance, and was momentarily filled with terror: a monstrous dragon was flying over the water, all black and covered with greenish scales. Something was clutched in its claws—something dreadfully human-like. The beast let out a screech that grated like swords crashing together.

He couldn't afford to let his initial fear take hold and didn't have time to wonder where the beast came from. Quickly going into captain mode, he shouted: "Henry, get below deck and STAY THERE!" There was no way he'd let any harm come to Swan's boy. He let the wave he'd been riding fall back to the surface and followed the dragon farther out away from shore.

He had to throw a hand over his eyes to shield them from the burst of flame that emitted from the creature's mouth just then, but it gave him a quick idea on how he might hope to vanquish it. Refocusing his thoughts, he summoned a jet of water and aimed it at the dragon's chest, which seemed to be the source of the fire.

But the beast moved, and he merely hit it in its side, which did no good in defeating it—but certainly angered it.

He should have dove under the water, but seemed to be frozen in place, which gave the dragon plenty of time to locate him as the assailant and move in to attack.

The monster dove down at him with alarming speed; Killian only just avoided its free claw by diving down away, but he resurfaced in time to get a good look at whatever (whoever?) the beast was holding.

_No_. Now he was truly terrified: he recognized the unmistakable form of Emma within the dragon's clutch, her golden hair catching the wind and flying around her head. Suddenly, an old conversation popped back in his head, spurred by what she'd told him last night. _Maleficent; the dragon is Maleficent_. Emma must have tried to confront her, only to have it backfire.

_Oh, Swan; what did you do?_


	15. Winning the Battle

_My apologies for the cliffhanger! (well...kinda ;P) I got yelled at by a few people for that, haha. Don't worry—I didn't leave Emma in Maleficent's clutches for long!_

* * *

Desperation filled Killian: he needed to disarm Maleficent the dragon, while keeping Emma safe...which would certainly be the hardest part, as Emma was being precariously held a good 10 metres above the water.

He figured his best bet would be to put out the fire, so he again called on his powers and aimed for Maleficent's chest, only this time summoning a handful of jets to increase the chances of a hit.

The water arced overhead in her direction, fountaining towards her from various points around the spot where she hovered. It was a stretch of his powers, he could feel, but he was nothing if not motivated when his Swan was in danger.

But Maleficent flew even higher, avoiding the streams and allowing them to crash together in what might be considered an artistic fountain had they hadn't been intended as weapons. The spray from their collision fell back on him, temporarily shielding—and blinding—him from the fireball headed his way. He avoided the worst of it by ducking under the surface, but not before a decent part of his right shoulder was singed.

Even underwater, his skin felt like it was on fire, but it began to dull somewhat quickly. It would still take some time for it to fully heal—time he didn't have. _She needs to be immobilized_. His powers were for naught if his adversary could easily escape them—while her fire was weak against his water, her wings certainly weren't.

A memory of wind tearing at sails as he guided the _Jolly Roger_ into one of many portals trickled into his mind; _maybe...if I can make a whirlpool strong enough_.

He popped his head above water just long enough to ascertain the dragon's location; she seemed to be looking for him, though she still had Emma in her grasp. Thankfully, she was only a few metres away.

He quickly ducked back down and forced the pain in his shoulder out of his mind. It would take all of his focus to pull this off; no distractions. He started with a small whirlpool, and got it going faster than he'd ever spun one before. _Bigger, come on_. Slowly, it expanded; he hoped the other ships in the harbor were as well-moored as the _Roger_, as he wasn't sure how well he could control it.

Before it got too out of hand, he finally dared to resurface. It wasn't the largest whirlpool he'd seen, but certainly the strongest. And it had the desired effect: Maleficent was caught in its draft, wings struggling against the air current it had created.

_It's now or never, mate_. Taking some focus off the whirlpool, he immediately focused a jet of water toward the dragon's glowing chest, finally hitting his mark with a massive hiss of steam.

He kept it up, now fueled by anger—_how could she think she'd endanger Emma and live to tell the tale?_ The resulting fog began to fill the harbor, making it hard to see his target, but he was undeterred.

Until he heard an ominous splash, somewhere around the now-shrinking vortex. He heard himself shouting—"Emma, no!"—but was unaware of any actions other than immediately diving in search of her.

Despite his enhanced underwater vision, the murkiness made it hard to discern clear shapes. But he was ever-thankful of Swan's affinity for red jackets; he saw a flash of color and darted after it as fast as his fin would move.

She was still unconscious when he reached her, but she didn't have latent mer-genetics to save her like he had. So he hooked his arms under hers, straining a bit against the ache in his shoulder, and swiftly moved back to the surface, which thankfully wasn't far off.

He found a scrap of shore and pulled her up, turning her head and gently shaking to clear her airways. Seconds felt like eons as he waited for any sign of life, but finally, blessedly, she began to cough up water and take deep breaths. He hadn't realized until then that he was holding his own, and let out the biggest sigh of relief in his long memory, nearly collapsing on her shoulder in the process.

He sat back up to look at her, eyes still shut as she inhaled air. "Swan..." he breathed, reaching over to brush her wet fringe out of her face. "Are you alright?"

She intercepted his hand with hers and squeezed. "I think so," she sputtered out, still coughing.

Her eyes finally opened to meet his. "What the hell happened, love?"

She took a few more deep breaths before sighing. "I tried to do what you did—I wanted to get her happy ending back."

_Oh, Swan_. "I take it she wasn't keen on the idea?"

"Not exactly." After a few more deep breaths, she asked, "How did you find me?"

He had almost forgotten his mission in the harbor. "I was trying to get something off the _Roger_—a cuff of my father's."

"By yourself?"

"No; Henry—"

She didn't let him finish. "Henry's here? Where?" Her eyes grew wide as she frantically tried to sit up, but he gently pushed her back down.

"Easy, lass; he's below deck—he's fine."

He expected her to put up a fight, but she just nodded and sighed. She had no idea how much that show of trust meant to him.

"Where did she go?" Emma asked.

He scanned the harbour for any sign of the dragon, or even her human form, but saw nothing. Even the water had returned to its calm state. That should have given him relief, but it did anything but. He didn't think he'd destroyed her—he knew he had gotten carried away, he was ashamed to admit, but not that far—so she was likely still at large. "I don't know."

"Did you…"

"I don't think so." He prayed he hadn't, but he'd been so angry. He hated to think what he would have done had he not gone after Emma. (_That's true in many ways, mate_.)

"Killian," Emma breathed, calling his attention back to her.

"Yes, Swan?"

"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hand again and meeting his eyes with a look of gratitude.

"Anytime, love," he smiled back. "Though I'd appreciate it if you didn't make that a habit."

She gave him a smirk, and he placed a gentle kiss on her temple.

After a few more minutes of rest, Emma sat up again, and he didn't try to stop her. "Come on; let's go check on Henry."

She strode up the gangplank as he again used a wave to reach the deck.

"Henry? Henry, it's all clear!"

"Mom?" The boy asked as he came up the ladder. "Where'd the dragon go? And why are you all wet?"

"We'll talk about it later; are you alright?"

He replied with an affirmative, then turned his direction to Killian. "Is this what you were looking for?"

Henry held his hand out to Killian, showing him the object on his open palm. Even though he'd held on to it all these years, it had been a long time since he gave the cuff much thought. But there it was, unchanged after the centuries: the stiff brown leather still held its shape, open on one side so it could be easily slid on. He'd never noticed before, though, the pattern embossed in the hide: a series of seashells and starfish. There was no question now that this was indeed what had permitted his father to walk on land.

He could feel his heart racing in anticipation. "Swan, would you do me the honor?" She took the cuff from Henry and stepped toward Killian, somewhat gingerly, and somewhat concerned. "What is it, love?"

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Of course." Why wouldn't he?

"Okay." He held out his right arm and she gently slid it over his wrist. The leather felt soft and smooth against his skin. He could feel a slight tingle run through his body once it was on, and it looked as if it glowed ever so slightly.

But that was it. Nothing else. He glanced down; his tail was still as present as ever. His head fell in defeat. "It should have worked."

"Maybe the magic expired?" Henry suggested.

Killian glanced up at the boy, somewhat confused at the terminology, but Emma caught right on. "Maybe the enchantment needs to be re-enacted."

If he focused, he could feel the traces of magic the cuff held, but they were weak. "It has something left; maybe Regina can bring it back to full strength?" He offered his wrist to her so she could remove it.

Emma slid it off and tucked it into her pocket. "I'll talk to Belle, too; there might be something in that book."

He knew there was still hope, but in that moment he felt utterly beat. This was his only shot at regaining legs; if it failed, he hated to think what that would mean.

Emma's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Hey, I know I sound like a broken record, but we will figure this out."

"And if we don't?" It wasn't something he wanted to think about, but it crept in anyway.

"There has to be a swimming pool somewhere in this town." He could tell she was trying to joke, but he wasn't in the mood.

She took a few steps closer to Killian, placing her hands around his neck; he resisted a wince when she touched the still-healing skin. "Killian, I know that you're getting frustrated, but if it wasn't for this, you couldn't have saved me today."

"Aye." It _had _felt empowering to be able to rescue her. "But I'd much rather be at your side."

"I'd like that, too."

Ignoring Henry's sounds of protestation, he kissed her chastely and soaked up the moment, glad not only to have his Swan in his arms, but to hear her say that the feeling was mutual.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin had watched the scene from the nearby forest, hidden by the thick pine trees. A soaking wet Maleficent stood near him. He'd had to transport her out of the harbour when her dragon form was defeated by the pirate's powers (which, he hated to admit, were impressive).

"And this, dearie, is what happens when you go off half-cocked."

"I've no desire to hear your lectures, Rumple," she sneered back. "It was time to take things into my own claws."

"And you thought drowning her would work? When her lover boy is a merman?"

The witch's brooding silence was all the answer he needed; she _wasn't_ thinking.

"You'll owe me for saving you. Know that." She just glared at him, and disappeared in a haze of smoke.

A sinister smirk grew on Rumplestiltskin's face; he knew _exactly _how she'd be paying.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts!**_


	16. The Next Step

_HAPPY FINALE DAY! (though something tells me there will be some not-so-happy parts!)_

_I hope you enjoy the next chapter of this story, but heads up: it gets a little dark._

* * *

"So, in your expert opinion, is it possible?"

Emma, Regina, and Belle gathered at the library the next day to discuss the issue of Killian's cuff. The object in question sat in the middle of the table, unassumingly. Emma's own inspection of the bracelet revealed the same as Killian's: there was something there, but not much. Regina had spent a bit more time with it, carefully studying the whole thing.

Belle had began poring over the book on merfolk, searching for any reference to a cuff, but had little luck; it was more an informational tome than instructional. But she did have a few on transformation that she'd began looking over.

"I think it's possible, but I need to know a bit more about the original spell to really be able to do anything."

"It's not something you could tell from just looking at it? Like, didn't you do a scan or something?" Emma knew there were limits to magic, but this one seemed easy to accomplish.

"Transformation spells like this are much more complex than, say, glamour spells. They usually require some substance."

"She's right," Belle chimed in. "Anything I'm finding in here requires a catalyst of some sort—like a potion or a plant—for an object to take on transformative properties."

Emma sighed. "But, of course, we're in a land without magic."

"Why do you think I have my vault?" Regina stated matter-of-factly.

Emma perked up at that. "Really? You might have what we need down there?"

"Possibly."

"If it's not there, there's a chance it's back at the shop," Belle added. "Rumple kept...keeps...a lot of stuff in the basement."

"Ok. So, what can I do?" She hated the inaction, and the fact that she was the least magically educated at the table. She began flipping through the original book, but had gotten to the back, where there were nothing but blank pages.

"Until we find out what it is we need, not much." The mayor glanced at the time on her phone. "And that won't be now; I have a meeting with our visitors in a few minutes." She stood to leave, and Emma followed.

"Oh yeah, how's that going? Any leads?"

"We're no closer to finding this Author than we were a week ago. Any leads have turned up dead ends."

"Then why is Gold so desperate to darken my heart?"

"I'm trying to figure that one out myself. He's only revealed parts of his plan." She looked at her phone again. "I really have to go, though."

"I should probably go on some rounds, then. Please keep the police cruisers out of your plans today."

"Unless you're hiding your heart in one, I think the cars are fine." She left the library in a whoosh of purple smoke.

Emma looked down at the tome still in her hands. "Hey, do you mind if I borrow this?" She asked Belle. "I'd like to learn a bit more."

"Emma, this is a library. You're _supposed_ to borrow them," Belle joked back.

"Right. Duh. Thanks, and let me know if you need anything." She pocketed the cuff and tucked the book under her arm before making her way out to the Bug, while Belle directed her attention to a patron, an elderly man who was ready to check out books.

The day passed in surprising calm. Emma made rounds and took care of things at the station, and had lunch with Killian as usual. She perused the book in her downtime. It was a bit fascinating, actually: it told stories of mermaid myth and fact; of famous merfolk and sea legends; and she re-read the flagged page with the tale of Killian's father. She closely read the stories of mermaids who fell in love with humans, hoping for some indication of what they might need for the spell, but all that was mentioned were baubly bracelets and nothing of how they were made. She was genuinely sad to see that someone had torn out a page at some point in the book's life because she was enjoying it so much (and what if that was the page that held an answer?).

She reached a section of blank pages at the back, skimming over them to see if there was something hiding; but, finding nothing, she set it down open-faced on the desk and sighed. She'd gotten so used to Killian's support during their numerous adventures; she didn't know if she could (or wanted to) do it by herself. _But the Savior never gets a rest, does she?_

The last day had been too crazy to really think about the repercussions of her parents' actions and, honestly, she wasn't in the mood for the existential crisis she'd been fighting off. (She'd had enough of those for one lifetime.) But she did wonder: was she only the Savior because of what her parents did? Or was that her own doing? Or some combination of the two? It probably didn't matter now—what's done was done, and the only thing to do was move forward.

It still weighed heavily on her, though. Of course, it was _that_ moment her dad decided to text her, wanting to talk, but she ignored it (and not for the first time). _I'm just not ready_. Her aggravation caused her to slam her water bottle down on the desk rather than just set it. She cursed when she realized that she splashed some water on the open book;_ shit, Belle is going to kill me_. She quickly grabbed a napkin and began to wipe up what she could, hoping that she had at least acted quickly enough to prevent the pages from warping.

As she wiped, though, she noticed black marks appearing on the pages where the water had hit. Now Belle would really lay into her. But a quick glance at the other pages showed they all had similar dark marks where they'd gotten wet.

_Wait a minute...is that text?_ She looked closer; indeed, the water had revealed printed words on the first page, and it looked like a drawing on the reverse. On a hunch, she took one of the wet napkins and used it to moisten the rest of the page.

Right before her eyes, the once-blank page became a new chapter of the book. And, despite the soaking, the paper didn't seem any worse for the wear. So she carefully wet down the rest of the blank pages in the chapter, and her breath hitched when the saw the title of the next: "Transformation". She made quick work of the remainder of the section and dove into reading it.

A grin spread across her face as she went; it was exactly what they'd been looking for. After a quick text to Regina, she called the librarian.

"Belle! Ok, don't get mad at how I found this, but I found it!"

* * *

The three heroines assumed Carl was just at the library to browse some books, and heeded him no mind while continuing their discussion of the cuff. They didn't notice the old man studying their moves and actions, or the object of focus, from his vantage point on the other side of a nearby shelf.

He found some generic books on history and checked them out, giving Belle a caring smile as he left. It was nice to just be in her presence.

Once out the door, he stared at his open palm and conjured a replica of that same cuff. A greedy smirk took over his face as Rumplestiltskin dropped his facade.

He headed to the confines of the pawn shop's basement after his brief rendezvous with Regina and Cruella. He had a plan that would not only remove two thorns in his side, but bring him closer to his goal of darkening the Savior's heart.

He'd torn the page out of that silly merfolk book shortly after he found out about the pirate's change in it out of his pocket and unfolding it, he spread it out on his work table and read the text for the umpteenth time.

_"Merrow: Similar to normal merfolk, these creatures also have the tail of a fish and an upper body resembling that of a human, although they are a bit more fish-like in appearance. They cannot survive above water due to…"_

He set the imitation cuff on the table, and began shuffling through some ingredients, pulling out a select few and tossing them into the cauldron he fabricated.

Satisfied with the concoction, he tossed in the cuff.

"Maleficent," he called out, even though he was alone. But it was enough to summon the witch, who appeared in a haze of smoke.

"What is it now, imp?"

"Remember how I said you'd owe me?"

The annoyed look on her face quickly faded. "What do you need?"

"I need allies who won't fly off the handle and threaten to ruin my plans."

Her brow furrowed. "Are you kicking me out or something?"

"That's one way of putting it." Without warning, he reached straight into the witch's chest and yanked out her heart; Maleficent gasped as he pulled, and collapsed when she saw her heart in his hand.

He held the black-streaked heart over the cauldron and began to squeeze. "Sorry, dearie, but you gave up your chance when you messed with mine." The heart crumbled into ash in his hand, and he watched the life leave Maleficent's eyes and her body fall limp. A small cloud of dark blue smoke told him that the curse worked

He stood over what had been Maleficent, smiling. A wave of his hand made the body disappear. _One down, one to go_.

He'd need to wait for the right time to strike next, but he was so looking forward to it.

* * *

_(I told you it would get dark)_

_Thanks to mryddinwilt for the idea with the book!_

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you're thinking!_


	17. Calm Before the Storm

_Hello friends! I hope you've recovered from the (AMAZING) finale! It's taken me a bit but I think I'll survive. I am completely smitten with that precious puppy pirate version of Killian; he won't be making any appearances here but, goodness, that was fun._

_This story has ended up being a bit longer than expected, but my muse has returned and I know where it's headed. I hope you like the rest of it! There's not a whole lot of action in this chapter, but it will pick up!_

* * *

It was truly the first day Killian had to relax since all this started. The first day he could just swim and not worry about an active threat. Yet, there were still villains running around, and his father's cuff hadn't provided the outcome he'd hoped for; so while there wasn't anything pressing, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was just the calm before the storm.

He was lazily watching a school of fish pass overhead from a spot deep in the bottom of the cove, a bit jealous that they seemed so intent on whatever it was they were doing. This far down, it was easier to forget the troubles on land, but he knew that didn't eliminate them.

A voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Killian? Hey, Killian!" He pulled his "shell phone," as Henry had dubbed it (with laughter that he didn't quite understand), from the spot he'd been keeping it between his brace and skin, smiling at Emma's excited tone.

"What is it, love?" _Did she find something?_ She hadn't had any news to report at lunch, so he didn't want to get his hopes up that there was a solution to the cuff's weakened magic now, _but_...

"I found the answer! I found what we need!"

"Are...are you sure?" He almost couldn't believe what she'd said.

"Yes! It was right in the book; it was just...hiding."

He breathed a sigh of relief and curiosity. "Hiding how?"

"Well, remember how you said you didn't want to get it wet?"

"Aye."

"Yeah, you probably should have." He found it utterly amusing that the book had only revealed its answers after being saturated.

"So, what now?"

"Regina is going to look in her vault to see if she has what we need, and Belle is checking the shop. Oh, and it says we need a few of your scales, if you don't mind."

"Whatever you need is yours, Swan." If scales were all that was required, he hardly considered that a sacrifice.

He could hear her phone ding in the background just then, and a slight sound of disgust from her. "What was that?"

She sighed. "My parents want dinner with me."

He hadn't brought up her parents and their revelation since they sat on the docks the other night, though there hadn't really been an opportunity. He knew she had slept at Granny's again last night, though. "You should go." He hated to see her relationship with her parents sour.

"But I do dinner with you."

"As much as I love that, I can survive a night. You need to do this."

"I—I just...I can't."

"Swan—"

"I'll see you later." The shell then went silent.

He sighed. He'd bring it up again tonight; he wasn't about to let her continue to carry that anger around, though, knowing what it could lead to. His feelings toward his father were just part of the many burdens and scars that had led him down his dark path before, and it terrified him to think that they could do the same to Emma, even if it supposedly wasn't possible.

She arrived at the beach an hour later with dinner from Granny's, as usual. She had a happy and relaxed front, but he could tell the issue with her parents was on her mind.

As they dug into their burgers, he wanted to broach the subject cautiously, but for once in his life, words evaded him. But as well as he could read her, she could do the same with him.

"If you're going to try to convince me to talk to my parents, you can stop now. It's not going to happen; not right now."

"Swan, I've been there before—you know that."

"Yeah, but what your dad did was forgivable."

"I still carried around that anger for centuries; regardless of what he did, that doesn't just get erased in an instant. I had to choose to let that go." Thinking back to the day he learned his father's history, he realized it was indeed a choice—a logical one, of course, but it also would have been just as easy to continue to grasp to those feelings of abandonment. And, honestly, he had Emma's example to thank for it. "You were able to forgive me and my misdeeds all because you found it in your heart to see past it."

She looked up at him from where she'd been staring at her lap. "The difference is you never held yourself to some paragon of virtue. You were honest about who you were. My parents weren't; they said they were heroes."

"Even heroes make mistakes, love."

They ate in silence for a bit as she contemplated it. He watched her and could tell she was torn. So he decided to switch gears for the moment.

"So, what all is needed to reenact the spell? Scales, and what else?"

She seemed to perk up at the change in direction. "Scales, yeah; sea water, which is easy enough; a special sand from...Agrabah, I think? Regina said she has it. And tadpole legs, which Regina isn't sure on, but Belle is pretty sure are in Gold's shop."

"Sounds complicated."

"Regina said it isn't, but it will take some time." She took a bite of onion ring and chewed. "I don't know; it sounds so Harry Potter to me."

"Harry who?"

She looked at him in disbelief. "Harry...oh, right. You've been fitting in so well, that I forget there's still so much you don't know."

"Well, when I get back on dry land, you'll have to introduce me to this Potter fellow." Done with his meal, he scooted closer to Emma and wrapped an arm around her; she leaned into his embrace. She was warm at his side, and they sat like that for a while, watching the setting sun paint its colors on the sky.

"How's your shoulder?" Once she'd noticed his burned skin the day prior, she began to worry about it, but by now it had fully healed.

"All better." He could feel her hand slide up his back to inspect the area, leaving a calming trail of heat as it went. Her brow furrowed as she traced the few scars that now lined the area; apparently, healing fast didn't eliminate those.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I've had much worse, Swan," he replied with a wave of his hook. She smirked back.

The waning light didn't hide the change in her countenance, from calm to contemplative. "What's on your mind, love?"

"It's just...if my parents hadn't done what they did, would I still be the Savior?"

"You _are_ the product of true love."

"I know, I know; but, if by getting rid of my darkness, did they end up making me the ultimate good guy?"

"You're wondering if you chose to be light, or if you have no choice?"

"...yeah. What if this is all...fate or something? If that's why I met Neal; and why Regina adopted Henry?"

"Then I shall have to thank fate someday for seeing fit to put me under that pile of bodies."

She leaned into him playfully, as if to shove. "You know what I mean."

He took a breath. "Well, as someone who started on the side of good and went dark, I can attest: vengeance is tempting—the darkness always is; but you _can _resist it."

"Why couldn't you?"

He looked down, somewhat ashamed. "I didn't have anything to live for. You have your parents, Henry—"

"You." She said it so confidently, it almost took him by surprise; he couldn't help his grin as he met her gaze.

"Aye, me. And I, you. And that's what's kept me on my path now." He reached down to grab her hand, and looked her straight in the eye. "Remember when you asked me to be a part of something?" She nodded. "I chose that, and I have never regretted it."

She smiled and pecked his cheek, but he wasn't done. He knew she wouldn't want to hear it, but he had to have his say.

"Emma, I can tell your heart is still uneasy and it's my job—well, I hope it's my job—to protect it. Your parents—they've done a lot of good; they turned themselves into heroes." She started to protest, but he continued. "Yes, I know they didn't own up to what they did, but did you ever think maybe they were ashamed; that they wanted you to like them?" _I've certainly been in that boat._

"I'd like them more if I knew they'd turned themselves around." She smiled and placed her hand over the tattoo on his chest. "I like when people find their good hearts along the way."

He glanced down and could feel his cheeks reddening at her pride in him, but this wasn't about him. She was deflecting and they both knew it. "They were trying to protect you, Swan, twice. Before you were born, they wanted to make you happy; and when they found you again, they wanted to make you proud. Do you want both those to be failures?"

She held his stare for a few moments, soaking in what he said. He knew he struck a chord, but it would be up to her to act on it. Silently, she turned her attention back to the horizon and rested her head on his shoulder. Whatever she resolved, he would support her; he could only hope it was forgiveness.

Once the sun was at rest, Emma made a move to get up. He hated for her to leave, as always, especially knowing that she wasn't going back to the loft. "You'll think about what I said earlier?"

She nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow." She cupped his face in her hands and stared at him, as if studying his features, running her fingers through what was now a full beard.

"What are you doing, love?"

"Nothing. I'm just..." Instead of finishing whatever she was saying, she leaned into him with a gentle kiss; he responded in measure, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down to him from where she'd been standing.

She broke off with a smile. "Goodnight, Killian."

"Good night, my love." Even in the pale moonlight, he could see her grin; he hoped she could see his.

The next couple days passed in much the same way: on his own, punctuated by time with Emma. He still found it suspicious that there was no activity from the remaining villains, but he wouldn't complain.

The longer he spent underwater, the less attached he felt to many of the concerns on land. Were it not for Emma, it would have been very tempting to stay under the sea, where there seemed to be far fewer worries. Here, he was free to spend time studying the flora and fauna, gaze up as ships cut through sunbeams, and subtly (though sometimes, not so much) use his magic, which got easier with time. Defeating Maleficent was still his biggest accomplishment, but he was figuring out new tricks each day.

He almost didn't dare admit it, but he truly enjoyed being a merman.

Until Emma arrived, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to stand and embrace her, and fight by her side. The human and merman were in conflict, but he knew: wherever Emma was, he was meant to be.

* * *

Belle led Emma to the back room of the pawn shop and opened a door that Emma had never noticed before. Belle peered into the darkness, which was illuminated after only a bit of fumbling to find the switch.

The creaking stairs made Emma feel like she was in a horror movie; the fact that it was Gold's secret basement magic lab only made it creepier.

It looked like some of her foster fathers' workshops: wide counters topped with cabinets of varying size and material; a couple stools; and she thought she spied a radio. But none of the homes she was in had old-fashioned spinning wheels or vials of lord-knows-what in them. It gave her an uneasy feeling.

Belle opened a cabinet and began searching for the tadpole legs. For what it was worth, Emma began glancing at a few empty bottles already on the tabletop. Handwritten labels indicated they had held "powdered unicorn hoof," "gillyweed," "Nostrian tears," but no tadpole legs, thankfully.

"Emma? Does something feel...off to you?" Belle's question brought Emma out of her thoughts.

"We're in the Dark One's workshop; it doesn't get more 'off' than that."

"But I've been down here lots of times before and it wasn't like this. Could it...do you think it's dark magic?"

Emma looked at her, and saw legitimate fear in Belle's eyes. She closed her eyes to focus, much like she had when she thought Killian might be cursed; she again imagined her magic scanning the room, searching for something amiss. But this time, she shuddered. "I think you're right...something dark was done here." Whatever darkness was there seemed centered on one spot on the counter, but other than the empty bottles, there was no physical evidence of evil doing. She wasn't sure how she knew, but..."I—I think it was a curse."

A look of utter disappointment took over Belle and she sighed. "Can't say I'm surprised anymore." Emma's heart went out to Belle, but deep down, she realized just how wonderful it was to have someone like Killian who she didn't have to worry about deceiving her. But there were bigger issues present, like who—or what—was being cursed.

"Any idea what he was up to?" She was fighting back nervousness; a town-wide curse was the last thing she needed right now. But Rumplestiltskin had also been focused on her.

Belle had gone back to searching the cabinets, and pulled a small jar out. "Found them," she said halfheartedly, holding up the jar so Emma could see its slimy contents. "I can try to do some research if we know what went into it, but Regina is a bit more of the expert there."

"Yeah, she is." Emma gathered the empty bottles and handed them to Belle, but something odd on the floor caught her attention.

"What the..." She knelt down to pick up the object: a small orb with a metal dragon claw attached. "This is Maleficent's."

"Or was."

* * *

_Thanks for reading, as always! Let me know what you're thinking!_


	18. Again?

_Well, we survived the first week of the hiatus, Oncers! Here's an update in celebration! It's not super long, but there's still some action. Hope you like it!_

* * *

It was an unusually warm spring day, so Killian was taking advantage of the extra sun and heat while lying on the flat rock—_their_ rock, the one he and Emma always spent time on—on the beach. While it was great for lounging like so, it was better to share.

A small part of him questioned how safe it was for a merman to be out in the open with certain villains running around, but by now Granny had likely told the entire town, so it was something of a moot point.

He didn't expect Emma to arrive with lunch for another hour, so he was pleasantly surprised to hear the sound of her voice.

"Hey there," she called out, and he lifted his head in her direction.

"You're early, Swan. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She was walking toward him, a happy look on her face, but he noticed something unusual about her gait. Before he could ask if she was alright (_Was she injured?_), she reached into her jacket pocket and held up a small brown object: the cuff.

"Is it..." he started, too overcome with hope to finish the sentence.

She nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to surprise you," she replied, still smiling. He had never seen her smile like _that_ though—like she had a secret.

He cautiously sat up. As much as he was entertaining the idea of what it would feel like to walk again—even to just stand and take her in his arms—something seemed off.

But before he could say another word, a sharp chill came over him—a stark contrast to the warm environment. He tried to ask Emma if she felt it, too, but found he couldn't speak...or move.

Emma stood before him, her free hand outstretched toward him. Her face held an expression he'd never seen her wear before; it was almost..._dark?_ His mind flashed to the Dark One's plans, but that was impossible—_I just saw her last night and she was fine_. There was only one answer: this was _not _his Swan, and he was trapped like a fish out of water.

As if on cue, a cloud of purple smoke engulfed the person standing in front of him. _Bloody hell; I should have known_. Rumplestiltskin stood before him when it cleared.

"Hello, dearie. Catfish got your tongue?" Every inch of Killian's body was screaming to react, but he was held in place by the Dark One's magic. "I figured I'd at least let you know it was me who was cursing you, and not your darling Swan."

_Maybe I can just wash him away_. He tried to reach out to the water, to do anything that might attack the Crocodile, but it seemed his magic was blocked, too.

"If you're trying to drown me, you can stop right now." _Blast_. "Yes, I saw your little display the other day against our dragon friend. Impressive. And you'll get to do that all you want where you'll be going. Because once this is on your wrist," he sneered, gesturing dramatically to the cuff, "you won't be able to survive outside the water."

_What the devil does he mean?_ Before Killian could even finish his thought, Rumplestiltskin roughly shoved the cuff on his right arm, and it glowed an eerie green, sending an uncomfortable shock from his wrist through his body to the tip of his tail.

Almost immediately, he could move again—but he couldn't breathe. It felt oddly like drowning, even though he was in open air. He began to cough and sputter; black spots were clouding his vision.

"Enjoy life under the sea," Rumplestiltskin said with a sinister smirk, and unceremoniously shoved Killian into the water.

He was used to the sensation of breathing underwater by now, so that wasn't the part that took him by surprise; it was the feeling of finally breathing, after being deprived of oxygen. _What did that vile imp do to me?_

He ran his hand through his hair as he got his bearings, but it felt odd, as if there was something between his fingers. He studied his appendage, and noticed that he now had a thin webbing of skin between his digits. _Well, that's new_. He huffed in frustration.

As he did so, he felt a strange sensation along his throat; it was almost a tickle. Gingerly, he brushed his hand against the side of his neck: the skin was smooth and hairless (_he took my bloody beard?_) and he felt ridges that weren't there before. _Gills; I have bloody gills_. And he then noticed the scales that coated parts of his arms and abdomen, similar in color to his tail but much smaller.

_Bloody hell, not this shit again_. But this time, he had no idea what he was.

His next thought was to contact Emma; even if she didn't know what to do, she at least needed to know. He reached for the familiar spot in his brace where he kept the shell, only to find there was nothing there. _Bugger me, it must have fallen out on the beach_.

He attempted to surface to see if it was there, but as soon as he did, his vision blurred and his lungs burned. Any search attempts would be fruitless and likely end poorly for him.

A stream of curses escaped his mouth and filled his mind once he fell back below the surface. The churning water told him that he still had his powers, _thank the gods_. He never imagined there would be a day he was thankful to have magic, but he was still capable of being surprised despite his long life.

_The cuff_. It was the source of the curse; maybe if he could get it off, he'd be fine. (The thought did enter his mind on the irony of how long he'd been waiting to get it on only to now want it off, but the Dark One—however he'd gotten his grubby hands on the thing—had now sullied it.) He cautiously slid his hook under the cuff and tugged; it didn't budge. So he pulled harder. And harder. And when that didn't work, began clawing at it from the outside; _I'll tear this bloody thing off if I have to_.

He felt as if he was watching in slow motion as the hook connected with the hide, piercing it, and shredding through as if it was wet parchment. Now broken, the cuff floated off...but nothing changed.

Not only was he cursed, but the one thing he thought might help him in the end of all this was destroyed. Worse, he had no way of communicating with anyone on land. For the first time since all of this began, he truly did not have a plan—no idea what to do, and no way to contact anyone who might.

He had held off panic this long but now, he was—_what's that word again? Oh, yeah_—freaking out.

Emma would arrive soon for lunch, and he wouldn't be there. What would she think? Would she assume the worst, that something had happened, or would she think that he too had abandoned her?

_Or will I be abandoned again?_

He lost track of time as thoughts and doubts consumed him. He felt as though he would cry, but this new form—whatever he was—seemed incapable of shedding tears.

It wasn't until later, much later, that he was pulled from his own conflicted mind by a loud _plop_ from overhead, and a small object coming to rest beside him.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you're thinking!_


	19. Mixed Emotions

_Happy Mermaid Day, friends! haha. Not a ton of Killian in this chapter, but some other threads get wrapped up. Hope you like it!_

* * *

It was an unusually warm spring day, and extra sunny at that, so Emma was really looking forward to today's lunch with Killian and watching the sun glint off his scales. Knowing that they were close to restoring the cuff's magic, she was going to enjoy that sight while she still could. Regina had been busy in her double agent role, but they had made plans for the next day to figure it out, and Emma couldn't wait to surprise him.

Granny's bag in hand, Emma strode onto the beach, shielding her hand from the sun glaring off the water. Once she adjusted to the light, though, she was a bit confused: Killian was nowhere to be seen.

_He never misses lunch_. She walked closer to the shore, hoping to catch a glimpse of him underwater. But the sea was unusually stormy for the calm day; her magic prickled a bit, which she had noticed happen whenever he was using his powers. So he hadn't left, _but why isn't he up here?_

She reached for her shell to call him, but before she could, her phone went off. And all hell broke loose.

Somehow, that crazy dog lady Cruella had kidnapped Henry and was calling for the Author's head in exchange. Why she thought they had any more idea where the Author was than she did was beyond Emma, but it didn't matter—she had to get her son back (a phrase she had used far too many times).

Immediately, Regina had called, having received the message, too. Emma hated to leave without seeing Killian, but she'd have to. She left his food on what had become their rock, and departed.

As she walked away, she finally pulled out her shell. She at least had to keep him in the loop, even if he couldn't help. She always felt more confident when he was at her side, though—she knew she didn't need him there, per se, but she wanted him there.

"Killian," she spoke into the shell. It sometimes took him a bit to answer, so she waited a moment, but heard nothing.

"Killian," she tried again. Still nothing.

"Killian, Cruella has Henry. Regina and I are going off to find her, so I can't do lunch, but I left food for you. Please, let me know if you hear this." It felt like leaving a voicemail, but she didn't know what else to do, and she didn't have time to dwell on whether he was blowing her off or if something worse had happened. (She knew it wasn't the first option, but years of that exact thing happening didn't get erased in a matter of weeks.)

Several hours and one showdown later, Henry was safe. Her parents had accompanied Emma and Regina on their quest to find the kid; Emma had been reluctant to let them join, but in Killian's absence, there wasn't really a choice.

It was her parents who tracked Cruella down to the town line, where the insane woman was holding Henry closely at gunpoint (a vision Emma would likely have nightmares about). When Emma arrived at the scene, Cruella continued to call for the Author's death, and refused to hear reason. Snow took a step toward her, trying to plead their case, but Cruella trained the gun on her instead and pulled the trigger. Thankfully, it only grazed her mother's arm, but Emma had enough and with a single blast of magic, pulled Henry forward and sent the fur fiend through the invisible barrier surrounding Storybrooke.

After making sure her son was ok, Emma rushed to her mother's side, who was sitting on the wet pavement being supported by David. Snow was gripping her arm where the bullet made contact—it wasn't a deep gash, but enough to produce a lot of blood, and Emma could tell Snow was feeling faint. Gently, she moved her mom's hand from the wound so she could heal it.

Killian's words from the other night about her parents rang in her head as she used her magic; it was time to stop holding this grudge against them when they'd been working to fix their error, especially today.

"Thank you, Emma," Snow said quietly. Emma didn't give a response; she was trying to think of what to say first. In her silence, Snow plugged on.

"I'm sorry i let you down. I was selfish."

Emma met her mother's gaze. "Yes, you were, but at some point this has to stop. I need to stop punishing you."

Snow looked up at her, confused. "You do?"

"You're a hero; and you have been for a long time—today proved that. If it happened at my expense, it doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the good person you became, and it doesn't change what you are."

"Which is what?"

Emma couldn't help her soft smile. "My mom." It still felt a bit strange to say, but it was the truth. Watching her son in harm's way and realizing the number of things she could have done to Cruella to protect him had truly put her in her parents shoes. And it was time to move on. "Cutting you out, trying to hurt you has just made me miserable. I miss you, and I forgive you."

Her mother reached up with her uninjured arm to pull her into an embrace, one Emma immediately recognized as something she'd been lacking.

Figuring it was high time to head back into town, Emma stood and, with David, helped her mother to her feet. She glanced back over the town line, where she could see Cruella stumbling down the road away from Storybrooke. She mentally checked one more villain off the list.

And so she found herself back at the beach, the sun approaching the horizon and still no sign of Killian. The food from lunch hadn't even been touched, though some seagulls were eyeing it. She tried to sense his magic; it had calmed, but she still felt bits of it ebbing with the waves as they crashed on the shore.

She wanted—no, needed—to talk to him, to tell him what had happened today. This absence was completely unlike him. She decided to try the shell again, for what it was worth. "Killian," she almost yelled. But she heard nothing but the echo of her own voice.

"Killian, where are you?" Only the echo replied...until she realized that it wasn't an echo. There, lying on the sand next to the rock, was his shell. _What the hell, Killian?_

Her mother's comments from days ago crept back in; _maybe he _would _rather stay down there, and not have to deal with all this crap up here_. Part of her didn't blame him, but a bigger part was upset—first that he'd be so careless with their main mode of communication, and then that he was clearly busy enough underwater that he hadn't come back up.

She picked up the shell. It was dry, so it must have been there a while. _Does he just think he could leave it behind, and that's that? Oh hell no_.

Overcome by an anger and hurt she had long hoped was buried, she chucked his shell into the sea. _Maybe he'll find it and I can yell at him_. She knew full-well she was probably overreacting, but it had been a long day and her patience was shot.

She watched for a few moments, but decided she'd had enough shit for one day and turned to head back in.

She hadn't gone 10 paces before a panicked voice came from her shell.

"Emma! Emma, are you there?" She had never heard Killian sound this scared. "Emma, I need your help. I...love, I've been cursed."


	20. Another History Lesson

_Hello, Oncers! Happy Sunday! (friends in the US, hope you're having a great Memorial weekend! [and anywhere else that is celebrating Memorial Day/any holiday!)_

_I've included some notes at the end about some of the mythology I've incorporated into this, in case you're curious._

* * *

He was pulled from his own conflicted mind by a loud plop from overhead and a small object coming to rest beside him.

Killian finally forced himself to look at something that wasn't his hand, which his head had been buried in much of the day. He scanned his surroundings for the cause of the disturbance, and, blessedly, his eyes landed on his shell. It was the first good thing to happen that day, and he hoped Emma was still at the other end of the communication device.

He frantically grasped for it, which was harder than he expected with the new webbing between his fingers (_one more blasted thing to acclimate to_). As soon as it was in hand, he called into the shell.

"Emma! Emma, are you there?" He sounded as panicked as he felt, and gave no time for a response. "Emma, I need your help. I...love, I've been cursed."

"Killian, what?" came her somewhat shocked reply.

"The Crocodile, he...he got his bloody hands on the cuff and cursed it. He came here before lunch disguised as you and forced it on me. I got it off, but now...Emma, he—he changed me again, and I can't come above the water."

She was silent, likely taking all that in; he knew it was quite a confession. "Why can't you come up?" she asked, much more subdued than she had been a moment ago.

"I can't breathe above water. I have these bloody gills now; he turned me into a bloody fish."

"You still have your powers, right?"

"Yes..." _What is she getting at?_

"Can't you sort of come up, then? So I can see you?"

He hadn't thought of that. He might not be able to breach the surface, but he could certainly alter where the surface was. He briefly worried over his appearance, but she hadn't shunned him so far in all of this so he was probably ok there.

He shot straight up, actually a bit quicker than he could have before. He slowed before he broke through, and raised the surface of the water to stay above him as he surpassed sea level.

His view of the beach was watery at best, but there was Emma, golden hair shining, sitting on their rock. He could see well enough to recognize the grin that stretched across her face.

"I missed you today."

"And I you, Swan." It felt odd to still be using the shell when they were nearly face-to-face, but he'd take it.

"I have so much to tell you, I—" She was cut off by something that made her jump.

"What is it, love?"

"My phone." She pulled it from her pocket. "It's Belle."

* * *

Belle was still shaken by finding Maleficent's token in Rumple's workshop. And, of course, there were no reports of the dragon around town, not since she faced off against Killian in the harbor. Belle feared the worst.

Swallowing her nerves and putting on a brave face, she headed back down to the workshop for the first time since she'd been there with Emma. Something still wasn't sitting with her right.

The empty vials were still on the counter, so she gathered them up to bring to Regina—if anyone knew what they made when combined, it was her. She continued to look for anything else out of place, but Rumple was nothing if not meticulous when it came to keeping his space clean and organized.

She arrived back at the space where Emma had felt the dark magic radiate, and was overcome with her own sense of foreboding. Obviously, the town wasn't under attack; but Rumple clearly had bad intentions with whatever he was doing.

A creased sheet of paper on the floor caught Belle's attention, right under that fearsome spot. She bent down to pick it up; its uneven torn edge suggested it had been ripped from a book, which brought a whole different kind of pain to the librarian.

Bringing it into the light, she immediately recognized it as coming from the book on merfolk. She glanced over the page, looking over the drawing of a mermaid-like creature, before reading the text.

_Merrow: Generally assumed to be of Celtic origin, merrows can be found in most parts of most realms. Similar to normal merfolk, these creatures also have the tail of a fish and an upper body resembling that of a human, although they are a bit more fish-like in appearance. They have gills on their necks, webbed digits, and scales over much of their bodies. _

_They cannot survive above water due to the respiratory system they share with most aquatic creatures—they must remain below the surface at all times, which is the marked difference between them and their merfolk cousins (that, and their enhanced speed). Underwater, merfolk and merrows have similar lifestyles as far as communication and society are concerned, the only difference being merfolk's ability to interact with humans. _

Belle's mind jumped to the empty bottle of gillyweed, knowing the effect it had on humans, which was rather similar to the book's description of merrows. She suddenly realized what Rumple was up to and who was his target. _I just hope I'm not too late_.

Quickly, she pulled out her phone to call Emma, who thankfully answered. "Emma! I found something, and I...I think I know what Rumple is doing with that curse."

Emma sighed. "Yeah, he already did it."

* * *

Emma listened to the librarian on the other end of the phone, who was somewhat frantically describing what she'd found. She'd put it on speaker once she realized what Belle was talking about; Killian definitely needed to hear this.

She could tell he was mentally taking stock of everything Belle listed, sighing at the end.

"Killian, I'm so sorry," Belle said.

"I appreciate that, milady, but you've nothing to apologize for."

"My husband certainly does."

A lull in the conversation allowed Emma to process what happened—and something didn't add up.

"Wait, Killian—you said he used the cuff?"

"Aye."

"That's impossible. I have it."

Even with a barrier between them, she could see his brow furrow in confusion. "Are you sure, love?"

She pulled the object in question from her pocket. "I haven't let it out of my sight." She thought back to how easily she had re-created a page from the book to mislead the villains—it wasn't exact, but it looked mostly the same. "I bet he made a copy."

"That's probably why I was able to destroy it, then."

Belle agreed. "Cursed objects become weakened and damaged; I have to imagine a cursed replica would be even frailer."

"And yet the curse remains."

After a brief pause, Belle quietly spoke. "This..._he_...needs to be stopped." Emma and Killian remained silent in agreement. "I just don't know how."

"My parents imprisoned him before; we might have to do it again." Emma could vaguely recall the story about how they and Ashley—_no, Cinderella_—trapped him with an enchanted quill, and she remembered all too clearly the cell at her parents' castle (and a certain confrontation there).

"Sounds like you need to call a meeting, love."

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

Belle offered to round everyone up and meet at the library in an hour, and said goodbye.

"Here we go again," Emma sighed. "A dark one to stop and a curse to break. Story of my life."

"Be careful how you use that phrase, Swan." She could make out his cheeky half-grin, and chuckled in response. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Emma relayed the day's events, and he responded with his own tale. It made her sick that Gold would use her image to get to Killian, but he'd already done the same to her.

"I'm glad you've mended things with your parents. How do you feel?"

"Much better." She smiled at him, hoping he knew how much of a role he played in their reconciliation. "I'll ask Regina what she knows about these kinds of curses, ok?"

"Worry about the Crocodile first; I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." She finally felt like she truly knew, though, and felt silly for doubting him earlier.

Curiosity overcame her. "Can I..."

"What, love?"

She sat up on her knees in front of him, rolled a sleeve up, and, tentatively, reached her hand through the water to cup his face. She'd gotten used to his beard over the past week, so seeing him without any facial hair was quite a change—he looked years younger. His skin felt unnaturally smooth under her hand, and he leaned into her touch. Her hand wandered down his neck, grazing over his new gills—which made him shiver. "What?" He shyly replied, "Um, it tickles." She could only laugh in response.

She continued to his shoulders, passing over his strong chest and core, feeling the small scales that now speckled his skin, stopping where the larger scales started at his hip.

"Well?" he asked, a tone of caution in his voice. It reminded her of his reaction when he first gained his tail, and her feelings toward it hadn't changed.

"Well, what? It's you, Killian. I've already told you: you're beautiful, and I'd rather have this than nothing."

He placed his shell in his brace, and reached down to take her hand. He slowly brought it up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on her skin; a tingle went all the way through her, and she smiled back at him. She always hated to leave him, but it was especially hard tonight.

She squeezed his hand. "I'll talk to you when we get to the library." He nodded and squeezed back.

Her thoughts focused on one thing as she headed back to town. _It's time to end this_.

* * *

_Notes: Yes, I've stolen gillyweed from Harry Potter mythology. If you need a mental image of what Killian looks like at the moment, think Harry during the second task in the Triwizard Tournament—still very much himself, just with webbed hands, gills, and no facial/upper body hair (don't worry, it will be back!)._

_I came across a tumblr post about the mermaids in Harry Potter (which, according to Wikipedia, are actually merrows, an Irish myth) and that's where the idea for Killian to be trapped underwater came from—those mermaids/merrows can't speak a language that most humans can understand above ground, yet underwater, we can understand them (only, in Killian's case, he can't communicate at all above water). But if you recall from the movie, merrows are kind of terrifying, and according to merrow myth, merrow dudes are pretty ugly. But I couldn't do that to him, so we have a very pretty, fanfiction version of these creatures._

_Thanks for reading! I never imagined this would get the following it would, and here we are at 20 chapters. You guys are awesome!_

_ Let me know what you're thinking!_


	21. Hello Again

_Sorry for a week between updates—but this one is a bit longer...and brings back an old friend! Hope you like it!_

* * *

Even though he was lounging in a kelp bed several kilometres away, Killian could easily imagine the scene unfolding in the library: lights dimmed, door locked, and the usual crew gathered between the stacks. He was only listening in via the shells, but he'd been part of enough of these secret meetings to pick up on the tense atmosphere.

"Alright, enough is enough," Emma commanded. "Mom, Dad, how did you imprison the Dark One before? Something about a quill?"

He heard a pause and a nervous cough, before Snow began. "Yes; we covered a quill with squid ink. We baited him to meet with Ella, to sign a new contract, and he was frozen in place when he went to sign it."

The mention of squid ink immediately brought forth memories of Killian's dealings with Ursula and the similar plan he'd had in mind (though he had intended to end things rather more violently).

"But it didn't completely stop his magic," David added. "We don't know what he might still be capable of. He managed to make a man completely disappear until the Dark Curse."

"You didn't have enough," the queen stated, matter-of-factly. "If you'd had three times as much, it would have blocked his powers." The vial that had been so close to his grasp danced in Killian's mind.

"Well, lets start with the ink. Regina, got any in the vault?"

"It's not a grocery store, Ms. Swan. I don't keep everything in stock."

"So you don't have any?"

"No."

Killian had briefly wondered if whatever newfound relationship (at least a quelled hatred) he had with the sea witch might be able to be put to use; it was seeming to be the case. "I may be of assistance in that department, Swan."

"Really? Is there a squid here?"

Her sincerity made him chuckle. "No, but in my past with Ursula, we had arranged a trade: she would provide me with enough squid ink to incapacitate the Dark One, and I would provide her safe passage."

"Until it went to hell?"

He sighed. "Yeah, something like that." He'd long appreciated how Emma never minced her words, but a little more tact there would have been nice. "With any luck, I might be able to persuade her or her father to supply some more."

"Ok, great. Now—"

"Before you all get ahead of yourselves, just what do you plan on doing with Rumplestiltskin in the long run?" Regina interjected. "In case you haven't noticed, we don't have the enchanted cell below the castle."

"What about under the library?" Belle suggested. The dejected tone in her voice came through loud and clear on Killian's end; he hated what the man had done to his friend.

"Maleficent's dungeon," David said in agreement. "Regina, you designed that to hold her and her powers, right? Couldn't you make it work to hold him?"

"I'd need Emma's help, but...yes. That's actually very doable."

"Is it safe?" Snow sounded worried. "Won't it draw his attention if you're working down there?"

"I haven't heard from him since Maleficent disappeared, so I'm fairly certain whatever he's doing doesn't involve me. As far as he is concerned, my business is mine."

"I...I can distract him, if needed." Belle added, reluctantly.

"Belle, we may need you to draw him out," David said softly; she hummed her assent.

"So we have a plan?" Emma's question was met with muffled murmurs of agreement. "Ok, Regina and I will figure out the cell; everyone else—stay tuned."

He could hear the scuffle of feet and quiet voices as the meeting dispersed, and then Emma told her parents, "I'll see you in a bit.

"Regina, do you have a minute?"

"One," came the short reply. "What is it? If it's about the cuff—"

"It's not, but it is about Killian. He's been cursed. Like, cursed-cursed."

There was a pause as Regina seemed to process it. "How?"

"Gold used a fake cuff to turn him into...what was it?"

"A merrow." Even the name was undignified. There was at least nobility in being called a merman; this was like being the court jester.

Regina hummed in contemplation. "You're positive it's a curse?"

"I destroyed the cuff, yet I remain in this form."

"And I there were traces of some pretty strong dark magic in Gold's workshop," Emma added.

"Didn't you find something of Maleficent's down there?" It sounded like Regina had figured something out.

"Yeah, why?"

"The number of curses requiring hearts is pretty high."

Killian wasn't surprised that the Crocodile would stoop to that level, but it seemed Emma was. "You really think he'd do that?"

"At this point, there's nothing I'd put past him.

"I have to agree with Regina, love," he felt compelled to add.

"I'll look into it what it would take to reverse it, but not until we deal with Rumple. I hope you don't mind, Hook."

"I understand, your highness. Good luck on your end."

"You too. You can get in touch with Ursula?"

"Aye."

"Alright." He heard them exchange goodbyes, and then silence, save for the sounds of Emma's boots as she left the library and headed home. He could tell from the pattern of her steps she was tense.

"What's irking you, Swan?"

"You're not even here and you can tell?" Her tone was both exasperated and amused.

He smirked. "You're always an open book, love, even when I'm not there."

She sighed. "Don't you feel like there's a lot being left to chance?"

"Perhaps. But, need I remind you? I've yet to see you fail."

She let out a slight snort. "You always say that."

"It's always true." _One of these days, Swan, you'll have as much faith in yourself as I do_. Truthfully, the only part of the plan that was in question was whether or not he'd be able to obtain the ink. He had some doubts, but he wasn't about to share them with Emma lest she further question the entire scheme.

"So how are you going to get in touch with Ursula? Can you shout across realms now?"

It was his turn to laugh. "Afraid not." He then remembered where he'd last seen the conch shell—the cabin of the _Jolly Roger. Blast_. "I may need some assistance with that, though."

"What do you need?"

He told her what and where it was, adding, "I believe Henry knows exactly where it is. The lad's help would be most appreciated." She agreed, saying he'd be there after school the next day.

A door opened and closed and he could hear the hollow sound of footsteps on stairs. "I should let you go for the night then, Swan."

"I guess." She went quiet for a moment, then, almost a whisper, "I wish you had been there tonight."

"So do I, love."

A silence fell over them; despite their lack of proximity, it was still companionable. Just knowing the other person was there was almost enough, and was certainly better than nothing. _What I wouldn't give to be where you are, though, Swan_.

"Good night, Killian."

"Good night, Emma."

He bided his time the next day until afternoon, when an unexpected—yet not unwelcome—voice came from the shell.

"Hey, Hook!"

"Henry! How are you?"

"Great! What is it you need?"

"Give me a moment to get the harbor, lad, and I'll tell you." All he needed was a moment; the only advantage to this undesirable form was that he could swim much faster (but it wasn't enough for him to find favor with being a merrow. Even the thought of that word made him shudder).

"My mom said something about a shell? It's on your ship, right?"

"Aye; it should be in my cabin. It's a large conch shell."

"Like the kind you can blow into?"

Killian laughed at Henry's intuition. "Exactly like that."

He arrived at his ship quickly and hovered in the water nearby, listening to Henry's overeager steps as he descended into the hold.

"I've got it! It was right on the table." Right where he'd left it, before the day took a downturn.

"Fantastic! Come up to the deck and I'll be waiting."

Much like he'd done the prior evening with Emma, he manipulated the surface of the water around him and rose to be level with the ship's railing.

Henry appeared shortly and was slightly taken aback by the sight before him. _Emma must not have told him the details_. "Apologies if I frightened you, mate."

"I just...didn't know what to expect." He took a few brisk steps toward Killian (_the boy will be as tall as me soon_, Killian noted) and held out the shell.

Killian hadn't tried reaching through the water yet, and tentatively slid his hook out. He was relieved to see there were no issues, and tucked the curve of his hook into the opening of the shell. "You have my thanks, lad."

"No problem, Hook. Good luck! I've got to get this back to my mom," he said, gesturing to her smaller shell, "so I'll see you later. Bye!"

"Take care," Killian responded as he fell back to the water.

He quickly made his way back to the cove, wanting some semblance of privacy (or at least, less publicity) for whatever came next.

The shell fet heavy in his hand as he stared at it, oddly nervous about what he had to. _No time to be concerned, mate; everyone's counting on you_. _Besides, what's the worst that can happen?_

He gradually brought the conch level with his face and took a deep breath that tickled at his gills. Slowly, he blew into the shell, releasing a long, low note that manifested as a pulse out and away from him.

The first time he'd used it, it took a moment to get any response from Ursula—and that was when she was still in Storybrooke. He knew crossing realms would take longer, but he had no idea how long. After a few minutes, worry began to prick at the back of his mind—_what if she ignores it? Or it never reached her in the first place?_

He couldn't help the sigh of relief that came with the appearance of a swirling portal in front of him. One by one, green tentacles slithered their way through, bringing Ursula through in a regal manner fit for her status as half-goddess.

He heard her voice before he saw her face. "So, pirate, did you miss me?"

The corner of his mouth ticked up. "You could say that, I suppose."

As she made it the rest of the way through and settled her gaze on him, her face went from an expression of smug satisfaction to almost shock. "What happened to you this time? I figured you'd still have a tail, but...how did you become a merrow?"

He was thankful that she was always a step ahead when it concerned creatures of the sea; he was tired of explaining things so in-depth. "The Dark One."

"Should have known. Although I must say, I do enjoy you without the beard." Her tentacle slid cold and slimy along his face; caressing him, if it could be called that. He knew it would be rude to recoil, so he turned away instead, still eliciting a laugh from the sea witch. "What's dear old Rumple up to now? Still searching for the Author?"

"As far as we know, but he's leaving a path of destruction behind him. We think he killed Maleficent in order to curse me."

The amused look on her face disappeared quickly. "He what?"

He didn't dare break eye contact with her as he told her their plan. "Aye, which is why I summoned you. We can incarcerate him, but to do so, we need something: squid ink."

A smirk took over her features once again. "Well this sounds familiar. Are you going to offer me passage to Glowerhaven in return?" she said playfully.

"At your service, my lady," he joked back, with an over-grand gesture and bow that was met with a chuckle. _So far, so good_.

"Normally, a request like this would need a trade of some sort; but as far as I'm concerned, Rumple still owes me for how he wronged me in New York."

"What did he do?"

"He ate all my ramen."

Before he had a chance to ask what this ramen was, she was writhing a tentacle through a new portal, her eyes closed in concentration, much like when she'd retrieved the Jolly Roger. It took a moment, but then she smiled, and her appendage held a clamshell as it came back through, which she presented to him.

He gently grabbed it from her sticky grasp, and guided the shell open. There, as it had been years before, was a small vial of a thick black ink. "Ursula, you have my eternal thanks, and those of Storybrooke." His voice was drenched in sincerity.

"Just put it to good use, Hook."

"We will." He closed the clamshell and gently set it down so he could talk to Emma—just a quick word to let her know he had it.

After saying goodbye, Ursula spoke up. "Do you mind if I stick around? I'd love to see Rumple get what's coming to him."

_I certainly understand that feeling_. "The more the merrier," he replied.

She grinned back wickedly. "Excellent."

* * *

_As always, thanks for reading! I'm getting close to the end of the story, so I'll be sad when it's done, but you all have made this a fun ride!_


	22. Trapped

_Hi friends! This chapter is a little painful...but not TOO bad. Just don't hate me._

* * *

Belle was more nervous than she could ever remember being. More than when she first went to the Dark One's castle; more than when she defeated (and saved) the prince-turned-yaoiguai. She was about to betray the man she loved; yes, she had Will, but deep down, she still loved Rumple.

Knowing it was the right thing to do didn't make it any easier—but, she supposed, that's why she had stayed on the side of the heroes. He'd had so many chances to do the same, and she had so hoped he would. That maybe, when she sent him over the town line, he'd realized what he'd lost, and what he could do to have it again, only better.

But he hadn't, and he was becoming a danger to everyone else. _This is the right thing to do_.

She hadn't seen him since he arrived back in town; well, not when she knew it was him. He'd faced her as Killian and likely several others, but never as himself. She sent him a text earlier, asking to meet at the docks so they could talk.

So here she was, waiting on a bench, toying with a rock in a failing attempt to keep her nerves at bay.

A twig snapped, making her jump. And there he was. He appeared out of nowhere, per his style, and wore the soft smile he reserved for her. She couldn't keep her own in at finally seeing him, bittersweet as it was.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't come."

"I'd never leave you waiting, Belle."

She didn't know how to respond to that, so instead stared back out at the water and the sun beginning its descent as he sat down next to her.

"I've missed you, my dear," he said gently.

"You have a funny way of showing it."

His gaze drifted to the ground; his silence was deafening.

She stood and swallowed, calling on the courage she'd worked up. "Do you remember what you told me on the night of our vows? How I chased all the darkness out of you?" She began to wander down the dock, still playing with the rock in her fingers.

He followed her. "Belle, look, I'm sorry for everything."

She paused mid-stride and looked back at him. "No. No apologies today," she said with a wave of her hand, and continued down the dock.

Reaching the end of the pier, she sighed. "For once in my life, I just want the truth." She turned around to see he was right behind her. "Why are you here, Rumple? Are you trying to win me back?"

He sighed. "It's a bit more complicated than that." She watched, frozen with both awe and horror, as he reached into his chest to pull out his heart—his blackened, charred heart.

"Rumple…" No other words came to her.

"It seems that centuries of dark deeds do take their toll, and all that's left of it is this," he said, pointing to the small red glow at the center. "And pretty soon, that'll be gone, too."

She could feel tears pricking at her eyes. "Will you die?"

"I will lose any ability to love. That goodness you saw inside of me will be gone forever. There's only one man who can reverse this process, and that's the Author. That's why I'm here in Storybrooke." He placed his heart back in his chest; she couldn't fathom how it was even still working.

"There has to be another way," she stuttered out.

"I wish there was," he said with a flippant gesture of his hand. "But my heart is nearly black, and if I continue hurting you, then there's no hope for me."

She was only halfway touched by his heartfelt statement. "But Rumple, you're hurting the whole town."

"I don't care about Storybrooke; I only care about you."

_This is getting harder_. "If you truly did, that would have been enough. You could have been a good man with a good marriage." She choked back a sob. "Why wasn't it enough?" _Why wasn't I enough?_

"Because I didn't believe it." His own tears began to fall; she couldn't bear it, and turned back to the water. "Who could ever love me, Belle?"

_If he doesn't believe in it—us—now, he never will_. She stopped playing with the stone in her hand and, with a heavy heart (and maybe a bit of anger), tossed it into the sea, watching the ripples for a moment before walking back toward him. "I knew what I was getting, Rumple, from the beginning. I wasn't going to pull back. But now? It's too late."

He could only stare at her mournfully as she continued to walk away. With her back to him, she let the tears slip down her cheek as she awaited what was to come.

* * *

Killian was a patient man—perhaps one of the most patient in history. He had no trouble waiting for something that he knew would be worth it in the end.

But, so close to the finale of this centuries-long feud, Killian was growing weary of waiting for the sign that they could finally end things.

Emma and Regina had no trouble whatsoever in renewing and reinforcing the enchantment on Maleficent's old cell to make way for its impending inhabitant. The Dark One would not perish in his future home, but he certainly wouldn't be comfortable. _Truthfully, it's too good a punishment for the Crocodile_, Killian felt, but he knew they were doing the right thing.

_But what the bloody hell is taking so long?_ He and Ursula were waiting underwater for Belle's signal; he would be the one to douse Gold with the ink, which he held tightly in his han. Ursula would hold the Dark One down—being a sea witch and half squid herself, she was immune to the effects of the ink. Emma, her parents, and Regina were hiding on the Roger, a cloaking spell preventing Rumple from picking up their presence (Killian and Ursula would be fine as long as they didn't use their powers until it was necessary) and would come in as backup once Belle gave the sign.

The plan was solid and virtually foolproof. He was nervous, but not anxious; he was simply ready for everyone to move on with their lives, outside the influence of the Dark One.

"Is she reading to him up there? I thought they were supposed to meet a while ago." He'd found a companion in Ursula, but he found her talkativeness a bit too grating to properly affix the "friend" label. "Or maybe he stood her up?"

That _did_ send a jolt of worry through him; _might he be on to us?_ There would certainly be hell to pay if that was the case.

As if on cue, a stone fell through the water from above, right from the end of the dock. "That's it," he said, a bit graver than intended.

"The stage is yours, Captain," she said confidently. "Good luck."

He nodded in thanks, and gripped the vial just a little tighter. He waited a moment to give Belle some time to move away, as discussed, before slowly rising up through the water.

He had to move slow to avoid any undue attention; if Gold sensed what was coming, he could easily deflect any attack. But all of the man's attention was on Belle and his back was to Killian. Even through his watery view, he could see the anguish in Belle's body language as she walked away and the pain manifesting in the Crocodile's posture as he reached out toward his love. If Killian's resolve had faltered at seeing his friend hurting, it was renewed when he remembered how a cowardly man many years ago had never reacted like that to Milah—beautiful, loving, strong Milah. And furthered when he knew this was what he had to do to protect any kind of future with Emma.

He'd finally reached a level where he had a decent aim at Gold, and he could see a tentacle snaking it's way up the dock. Taking a breath, he slowly reached through the water with the vial, ready to pop the cork and make his move.

But then he felt hands around his neck. It was impossible, because there was no one close enough to do that, but someone—or something—was attempting to choke the life out of him. He instinctively tried to push whatever it was away, though he knew it was a fruitless effort.

Then he noticed the Dark One's outstretched arm...in his direction. And remembered how they'd been greeted by the man on their trip to the Enchanted Forest of the past. _Bollocks; should have known he'd still sense me_. Slowly, the man redirected his focus from his wife to Killian.

"Oh, so this is what's going on? Your new pal?" Gold was shouting at Belle, heartbreak turning over to anger. "He tried to kill you, Belle! He took Bae's mother! And now you're in league with him?" He could hear Belle's protestations in the background as he watched Emma and her family come in for backup.

The water provided a bit of protection from the Dark One's magic...until it didn't. Suddenly, he felt as though he was flying through the air as the Crocodile swung him away from the water and over the dock, cutting off his powers in the process. Hanging in the open air, it became that much harder focus on the task at hand; Killian didn't have much time before he'd suffocate, and sharp pains were already filling his chest.

"You had everything I wanted. You took EVERYTHING from me!" the man roared.

"No he didn't, Rumple," Belle yelled from behind him. "You could have had it all if you'd worked for it, and cared less about your damn power." There was venom in her tone, pushing Killian to do what he needed—if not for the town, then at least for her.

He took advantage of Gold's distraction to pop the cork on the vial; he was running out of time to make this happen—stars were beginning to appear on the edges of his vision and were encroaching.

Belle's pleading fell on deaf ears. "I should have crushed his heart when I had the chance," he sneered. "But I guess I'll have to settle for crushing his windpipe." Whatever force Rumplestiltskin was using grew stronger; blackness began to close in on Killian fast. _It's now or never, mate_.

Out of nowhere, Ursula's tentacles overtook Gold, much to the man's chagrin, and the force around his neck weakened a bit. Summoning the last of his strength, Killian jerked his arm out in the direction of the Crocodile. He could feel the weight of the ink leaving the vial, and heard a small crash as he dropped it, completely spent.

Then, everything went dark.


	23. Confirmation

_Happy Mermaid Day! Sorry to leave you hanging with the last update...but I PROMISE it was worth it!_

* * *

It felt weird to be standing out in the open, waiting for their prey, despite knowing they were invisible to him. Emma knew the plan would work—something in her gut told her that, and her gut was usually right. But it still felt awkward.

But she was happy to be on the Jolly Roger. If she couldn't physically be close to Killian, this was the next best thing. Memories of their trip to Neverland, their time in the past, and remembering how he gave it up for her came flooding back whenever she set foot on the deck.

From the ship, they had a prime view of the dock where all the action (well, hopefully little) would occur. Regina had cast a cloaking spell over the two of them and her parents, and she could just make out the gold of Killian's tail floating in the water, glinting off the sun. All was set; they just needed to wait for Rumplestiltskin to take the bait.

When he arrived and Belle led him to the end of the dock, the small group got ready to move. She couldn't hear what was going on, but she saw the pain and anger on Belle's face clearly, especially when Rumplestiltskin revealed his blackened heart (she had never truly appreciated the bright red of Killian's until she saw the lump of coal from Gold's chest). When Belle tossed the stone in the water, that was the cue for the group to make their way quietly down the gangplank, ready to serve as backup, or just observe.

But something went wrong, and by the time they reached the dock, it was apparent that the Dark One had detected Killian's presence and had him in some sort of magical choke hold. Over the dock. Out of the water.

_No, no, no_. Fear coursed through her veins as intense as when Cruella's gun was leveled at Henry's head. Her own words echoed in her head—_I can't lose you, too_. He was struggling and it pained her to watch.

Before she had a chance to make a defensive, move, though, Ursula finally intervened and Killian somehow managed to hit Gold with the ink. Instantly, the Dark One was frozen in place, covered by a shimmery film that could only come from magic, but Killian had collapsed. There was a pause as the group realized what had happened—it was done.

Mary Margaret rushed to Belle's side as her father and Regina moved to get Rumple in the cage they'd fashioned in the back of the truck. Emma couldn't even laugh at the way Regina swatted one of Ursula's tentacles away from the Dark One's still form as the sea witch shouted about ramen—she could only focus on Killian's unmoving body, lying limp against the wood of the dock.

She reached him quicker than she thought possible and found herself kneeling at his side, his face cupped in her hands.

"Killian? KILLIAN?!" No matter how loud she shouted, there was no response; his face remained peaceful and calm and he didn't move.

_He isn't moving...he isn't_ _breathing_. Panic unlike any other filled her; tears fell down her cheeks before she was even aware she was crying. "Killian, stay with me!" She hated that she was having flashbacks to the day Zelena tried to drown him; he meant so much more to her now.

A hand squeezed her shoulder; her mother and Belle were next to her, concern in their eyes. "Emma, honey, you have to stay calm; you're the only one that can save him."

"Mom, how? He's not—"

"He's _cursed_, Emma," Belle interrupted, sniffling back her own tears.

Snow began, "And all curses can be broken with—"

"—True love's kiss," Emma whispered. _Is that what we are?_ She knew she loved him, despite all her fears telling her to stay closed off, and he'd all but said he felt the same. But..._true_? "No...no, Mom, I-I can't—"

"Yes, you can, Emma," she said with a smile. "I know that it can be terrifying, but you have to have hope."

Emma turned back to Killian. The way his long lashes lied against the apples of his cheeks underlined the fact that those eyes were closed; the thought of them never opening again, never reading her clear as day with their piercing blue gaze that saw straight into her soul, was more than she could bear.

His lips, usually so pink, looked pale, and his tail was quickly dulling from its usual brilliant gold to a subdued bronze. And he was cold—colder than usual. _This can't be the end_.

"Killian, come back to me," she whispered aloud.

She quickly found his lips, all her whirling emotions focused on one thing: _I love you, Killian_.

The storm inside emanated all around her, as if her love for him was a wave of pure, white energy. She'd felt that only once before: when she kissed Henry after she thought he'd died. It took her by surprise again, even though deep down, she knew it shouldn't have.

She felt like she was frozen in place for an eternity, as if she and Killian were the only people in the universe. Part of her didn't want it to end, because ending it would mean acknowledging it: he was, in fact, her true love. Knowing that filled her with both joy and fear. And she still didn't know if it had worked.

Her eyes were still closed when she eventually broke contact with his lips, too frightened to open them to see what awaited her if nothing had changed. The fact that he wasn't moving beneath her scared her to death.

Until she felt a breath against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open to see that his mouth was parted and he was taking shallow breaths; his chest was finally moving, too. Not only was he breathing, but he was breathing above water—the gills on his neck were gone, and his skin was no longer coated in scales. She glanced farther down to see that his tail was still there, but he was no longer a merrow and he was _alive_.

"Killian?" she finally whispered. Then, a little more urgently, "Killian!"

His brow furrowed, and his hand came up to rub his eyes. Her heart clenched when he finally opened them and he met her gaze.

"Hello, beautiful," he said at long last, a soft smirk taking over his features.

She smiled back down at him, crying happy tears that fell on his face; he reached up to brush them away.

"Don't do that to me again," she said, trying to be angry but utterly failing.

He continued to cup her face in his hand. "What's that, love; save the day?"

She choked out a laugh and hit him in the shoulder.

"It's all in a day's work for a hero."

She could feel the gaze of her family and friends on them, but in that moment, she didn't care: her lips couldn't help but find his again. There weren't any literal fireworks this time, but she felt them in every part of her body.

* * *

Ursula didn't need any more confirmation that Hook had changed, but seeing him on the receiving end of True Love's Kiss? It was indisputable.

A part of her heart that had been shut off for so long, and had been slowly coming back to life in the past week, began to hurt: her empathy. Here was a couple with love so pure, it undid the work of the Dark One, and yet, they were kept apart by the fact that one of them was confined to the sea.

She didn't owe any of them anything anymore, but Ursula still felt like she could do something in this situation—and maybe it would help make up for some of the wrongs she'd committed in the past.

She slipped away in the commotion surrounding what just happened—the heroes needed to get the Dark One moved into his new home, and the couple didn't need a sea witch spying on any private moment that might come. If anyone picked up on her portal magic, nothing was said.

* * *

A bit later, just after Snow had laid Neal to sleep, she heard a muffled knock at the door. She hurried to answer it, knowing it could be literally anyone here.

But there was no one there. She thought she saw something green slither away, but it had been a long day and her eyes could certainly be playing tricks on her.

She glanced around, but, seeing nothing, moved to close the door. Until a small brown package on the doormat caught her eye. It was loosely wrapped, so she picked it up gingerly; roughly scrawled on the paper was Emma's name. Maternal instincts kicked in and she couldn't help but take a peek at the object, in case it was meant to cause harm.

She hadn't seen anything like the wrapped item in years, not since her first adventure with Ariel, but she'd never forget it. Suddenly, the tentacle made sense, and she knew exactly what her daughter was needed to do with it. She said a silent thank you to the sea witch, but one thought kept running through her head.

_Oh, I can't wait to see this_.


	24. Headfirst Into The Water

_Happy Mermaid Day! Sorry for no mid-week update, but I was super excited for this chapter and wanted to make sure it was perfect! Both this one and the one that follows are probably my favorites of the story...hope you like them, too!_

* * *

She could feel the gaze of her family and friends on them, but in that moment, she didn't care: her lips couldn't help but find his again. There weren't any literal fireworks this time, but she felt them in every part of her body.

Emma heard footsteps around her, shaking the spot where she still hovered over Killian. She was just so happy that he was ok—that he was alive—and she didn't want that moment to end, despite the commotion reminding her that she still had things to accomplish that day.

When she finally looked at something that wasn't Killian's brilliant smile, she saw that the Dark One was secured in the back of her father's truck (not the most humane way of transporting him, but she could think of worse). But then she saw the looks of pride and joy on her mother and Belle's faces; part of her felt a bit guilty that Belle saw what happened, given that they were locking up her true love, but the absolute happiness on Snow's face softened it. (If Regina and her father noticed what had happened—and they undoubtedly had—they didn't say anything.)

Actually, Regina had one thing to say: "Miss Swan, we're not done; I still need you to help lock the cell, so please hurry up with your reunion."

"Take all the time you need," her mother whispered with a pat on the shoulder, grinning, and scurried down the dock to gush to her father.

_That was true love's kiss_. She still couldn't believe it, or rather, wasn't sure if she wanted to. That was something that happened to her parents, or between a mother and a child; _it certainly doesn't happen to me, not like this_.

But the proof was there. How else would she have broken the Dark One's curse?

"Swan?" Killian's voice dragged her from her thoughts, and she hadn't noticed that he had moved to a sitting position.

"Sorry, what?"

"I was going to say 'thank you,' but it seems there's something else on your mind. What is it?"

"Oh, nothing; just...thinking about what we have to do with the Dark One." She knew better than to lie to him, that he'd see right through it, but he didn't question her.

"Mmm, ok. Then are you going to tell me what happened just now?"

_He doesn't know?_ She'd never given much thought to what it feels like on the receiving end of true love's kiss (and part of her hoped she'd never find out). _So, if I fudge the truth here, he might not know_. "Oh, um, it was my magic."

He arched an eyebrow. "Really, Swan? You were able to do that?"

She smiled back. "Yeah." _It's not a total lie_.

He glanced at her features, as if he was searching for an answer in the creases of her eyes or the dimple of her chin. But, not finding one (or ignoring it if he did), he looked in her eyes again and gave a soft smile. "Thank you, Emma."

"Did you really think I'd let you drown?" she joked, flashing back to Zelena's attempt at his life. This situation had been almost completely opposite, yet still far too similar.

"Well, given our history," he smirked back.

"Miss Swan!" Regina yelled from the end of the dock. _Way to ruin the moment._

"Guess that's my cue," she said with a sigh.

"Aye, love. Go finish this."

She whined, "But I just got you back."

"And I'm not going anywhere; I promise." _I don't think he has a choice_.

She leaned in for one last kiss, brushing her fingers through the beard that had returned, before departing. "I'll come see you later."

"I look forward to it."

She said goodbye with a grin, and ran off to where Regina was waiting impatiently by the Bug.

Finishing the spell on Gold's cell only took a few minutes; it made her heart ache slightly to see him in that dingy prison, but knowing it was for the good of the town eased any guilt. He'd still be able to see people, on a limited basis, but there was no getting out of there for a very long time, or very easily. Regina had agreed to mix up a potion to restore the health of his heart somewhat, but solely for the protection of Storybrooke.

She arrived home a bit after her parents, but wasn't going to stay long—she just wanted to change to a warmer coat before meeting with Killian, which she was both eagerly awaiting and dreading; they'd have to discuss the truth about their status at some point, and it was probably better to do it sooner rather than later.

She'd hardly made it in the door before her mother shouted. "Emma! You have to come see this!" Snow was seated at the counter, holding a small object that had been wrapped in brown paper.

"Any chance it can wait? I was about to go see Kill—"

"Oh, perfect! You can take it with you."

Emma's brow furrowed; now she was curious. "Ok; what is it?"

She moved closer to her mom, who hopped off the stool to show her what she held: a thick cuff made of beads that appeared to come from pink shells. It sparkled and shimmered in the muted light of the loft in an almost ethereal manner; if that wasn't enough to tell her it contained magic, the strange vibe it seemed to give off that hummed in her veins certainly did. _It feels like Killian's magic_.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asked timidly, remembering what Regina had said about magic cuffs.

Her mother nodded. "I think so. Grab a swimsuit and lets go find out."

A short while later, they were at the beach. Emma had managed to find a white bikini, and she was silently cursing her mother's insistence that she strip down to it as she shivered in the cool spring temperatures. (She was trying to block out the nagging voice in the back of her head that also reminded her this would be the most exposed she'd been around Killian, both physically and emotionally.)

"If this works, you won't even notice the cold."

"Well, can we do this before I get hypothermia?" She held out her right arm to her mother, who only pursed her lips in response and held the cuff out to her. "What? Just put it on."

"No, you have to do it; only the person who puts it on can take it off."

"Good to know." She took the bracelet in her hand; the magic within it pulsed even stronger when she held it. Out of precaution, she tried to sense if there was any dark magic attached, but all she felt was similar to the water magic she'd become used to.

She stared at it for another moment, contemplating what this might do. Actions came much easier to her than words most of the time, and if it worked, she hoped it would show him how much he meant to her—at least until she could find the right thing to say. With all he'd given up for her, and all that he'd done to become part of her world, the least she could do was this attempt at finding her way in part of his.

Plus, what girl didn't dream of this opportunity after seeing _The Little Mermaid_?

So she took a breath to swallow her nerves—this was something of a leap of faith, in more ways than one—and slid it on her wrist.

A bluish-white glow came from the cuff, sending a jolt through her body that settled on her lower half. As the warm white light radiated from her legs, she could feel a tingling sensation as they transformed from limbs to a tail.

_Holy crap, I have a tail_. The glow faded, revealing her bright green tail—the same color as her eyes, roughly—with gold accents and undertones that seemed to sparkle in the light of the setting sun.

"Oh, Emma; it's beautiful," her mother said, completely in awe. Emma could only smile back up at her, because it was, and she couldn't wait to see Killian's reaction. Quickly, she dug out her shell and then positioned herself over the water. She dipped her tail in and was pleased to find that the cold of the water had no effect on her.

She gave a test flip of her fin; _I'll have to get used to that_. But it oddly didn't feel too foreign; more like putting on a new pair of jeans—not a complete overhaul, just something new to wear that would come off later.

"Hold on! Let me take a picture for your father!"

"Really? Is this like the date all over again?"

"Emma, please."

"Fine." She tried to be annoyed but couldn't when it came to her mother's enthusiasm.

After she heard the shutter sound, she shouted, "Don't wait up for me!" And, with one last glance up at Snow, took a breath (out of habit) and slipped under the surface, both nervous and excited for what awaited her below.

* * *

Killian had hated to see Emma leave so soon after being reunited, but he knew the Savior's time was always in demand. It hadn't been that long since she'd left to put away the Crocodile for good, but after his days confined to his second home, Killian was eager to spend some time with her above the surface.

He did have a little time to contemplate what had happened. He had been cursed—there was no denying that. And while he had utmost belief in Emma's powers, he hadn't heard of any individual able to overcome such dark magic on their own—though, if anyone were to do it, it would be her.

All he could remember between blacking out and awaking to her shouting his name was a warm feeling that ran all through his body, and seemed to come from some outside source. It wasn't unlike the residual wave of magic he felt after Regina broke the second dark curse with Henry, only far more intense.

And she'd broken it with True Love's Kiss.

If that was indeed what had happened, he could understand why Emma hadn't wanted to talk about it—they had more than acknowledged their feelings for one another, but confirmation like that was kind of a big deal. He was sure that she was _it_ for him, and had told her as much, but he didn't want to drive her away by pressing the issue.

He didn't want to get his hopes up. _It was like she said; it was just her magic_.

_But if it _was _a kiss_...he couldn't help but grin at the thought.

Just then, Emma's voice came through over his shell. "Hey, where are you?"

"I'll be right up, love."

"No, WHERE are you?" _Why does that matter?_

"I'm in my kelp bed at the bottom, but I'll be there in a second."

She tried to say something else, but he didn't hear it as he took off for the surface. He didn't get very far, though, before being shocked into halting by something—or someone—coming at him. A halo of golden hair surrounded the smiling face he'd been seeking, as Emma was somehow swimming right at him. _How…_?

He didn't get to finish his thought before she barreled into him, and he had to wrap his arms around her to slow her down. "Easy there, Swan; what are you…"

He trailed off when he saw her tail. His eyes grew wide and he felt his jaw drop; it was as if he was seeing her for the first time all over again. She was grinning back at him. "What do you think?" she asked with a shy giggle. He was speechless at her beauty—of course, she was beautiful any time, in any form; but this..._bloody hell, she's gorgeous_.

He was absolutely captivated at the way her hair floated, the way it curled in the water and framed her face. In any other situation, he would have been hopelessly distracted by the fact that she wore a rather insubstantial top that only covered her bosom, baring her midriff and showing off her slender form, but her tail commanded his full attention. It was as beautiful as she was—a green that matched her eyes, accented by a gold that nearly put his own to shame.

Cautiously, he reached out to feel it—he had to make sure it was real, that he hadn't drifted off and dreamt this. He gently placed his hand on her hip, at the start of her verdant scales; she seemed to shiver at his touch, but didn't stop him. There was no denying the reality of what he was seeing and feeling as he grazed the scaly surface of her lower half.

"Emma...how?" No other words would come, but once he'd gotten over the initial shock and awe, he couldn't help but wonder how she arrived at this form (and desperately hoped it was through no questionable means).

She responded by holding up her wrist, which was now adorned with a cuff very similar to the ones he'd seen Ariel and Ursula wear.

"Where did you get it?"

"We think Ursula gave it to me," and Emma explained how it was found.

He was briefly concerned, the cursed cuff the Dark One made still at the forefront of his memory. "Are you sure it's fine? That it's not dark magic?"

"It's not, don't worry."

He hesitated before his next question, but curiosity won out. With all that had happened today, he'd figured she would just want to relax on the shore. "Why did you decide to put it on?"

"Every little girl dreams of being a mermaid," she replied with a cheeky smirk. But then her face grew soft, and she reached up to cup his face, tracing his scar with her thumb. "You've made so much effort to live in my world; I figured it was high time I give part of yours a shot."

He had been so focused to this point on regaining his legs that he never even contemplated the possibility that she might try to gain a tail. Whatever had been holding him back up until that declaration disappeared, and he pulled her into his embrace to find her lips with a passionate kiss.

It was a completely new sensation, to have this intimacy underwater. For the first time, there were no barriers between them, and he could swear he felt an electric shock where their bodies were connected, skin to skin. His hand slid up her smooth back, careful not to pull at the ties keeping her immodest top on, and wove into her free-flowing hair. He wrapped his tail around hers to bring her in even closer, gold coiling around green.

He had long dreamed of a moment like this, but it was so much different—and more thrilling—than he could have ever imagined.

When they eventually broke apart, it was because she was giggling. "Swan, what is it?"

"It...tickles!" she gasped through her laughter. He had been so lost in their moment, he hadn't noticed the quickly swirling water around them, causing a swarm of tiny bubbles to lightly brush against their skin.

He quickly realized that it was his doing, reacting to a level of emotion he hadn't felt since his powers were awakened. "My apologies, love," he said softly while ceasing the froth.

"No, it's ok; I kind of liked it," she said with a smirk somewhere between seductive and playful. "Now how about you show me what it's like to be a mermaid?"

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!_


	25. Under the Sea

_Happy Mermaid Day! This chapter and the last were a lot of fun to write, and hopefully a lot of fun for you to read! MASSIVE thanks to always-comment-on-the-mutton (on tumblr) for her help on this chapter!_

_Only a couple more chapters! I'll be sad to see it end but you lovely readers have made it so much fun!_

* * *

Emma had no idea what to expect when she went under the surface. She'd only seen Storybrooke's part of the ocean from the vantage point of the docks, the beach, or the _Jolly Roger_, so she really hadn't seen much.

She _had _expected the warm greeting—that kiss would likely never leave her memory, and Killian's reaction was everything she'd hoped it would be. It was the first of many similar kisses, she hoped: full of passion and intimacy and _connection_. She was honestly surprised that her magic didn't go crazy like his had.

"Now how about you show me what it's like to be a mermaid?" She asked him because she was genuinely interested in what he did down here all day. Any time she'd asked before, he simply brushed it off, but there had to be something down here worth seeing or doing.

His eyes sparkled, almost glowing, despite the darkness down here—what little sun was left barely illuminated the ocean floor. It suddenly struck her how their roles were somewhat reversed: it was his turn to teach her about his world now, and he was clearly, infectiously happy to do so.

He grabbed her hand, and with a dimpled grin, said, "Shall we, Swan?" He didn't give her a chance to respond before he was pulling her along (something she was grateful for, as she hadn't quite figured out how to work the brakes on this tail, as evidenced by the way she barrelled into him earlier).

"What are we doing?" she asked as they swam upward.

"I'm showing you what it's like to be a mermaid. And all mermaids have a perfect tail flip." He broke away from here when they neared the surface. "Just watch."

She'd seen him do this from the surface, but watching his graceful ascent and then quick descent from below, with a showy flourish and splash, was mesmerizing. He was plenty agile on two legs, and it was no different when they were replaced with a fin.

She was pulled from her admiration by him calling out to her, "Give it a go!" On her first attempt, she went too fast and far and shot straight out of the water, which was thrilling in its own way. Her second go ended up being more of a front flip that spiraled out of control, requiring him to catch her again in his sturdy arms (not that she minded).

He took a moment to guide her in the maneuver, pulling her alongside him as he did it slowly. He showed her just when to dive and, with the aid of hook and hand, just how to arch her back and fin to get the proper angle. Her skin tingled where he touched it and she was taken back to the ball they'd attended in the Enchanted Forest of the past; _pick a partner who knows what he's doing_ rang in her head.

Third time was the charm, and she felt her tail fan out in the cool night air above the surface before diving back down. If she thought she had been in awe of him earlier, it paled in comparison to the look of pride and reverence on his face just then. "You're a bloody marvel, Swan."

She swam past his head, placing a kiss on his cheek as she went by. "Well, I have a good teacher." Even in the dim light, she could see his cheeks redden.

He didn't let whatever bashful feeling he had last long. "Come on, let's go to the harbor."

"What's there?"

"You'll see." He again grasped her hand, and headed off in the direction of the harbor.

She tried to keep up, but was easily distracted by the huge variety of flora and fauna she saw; she knew it was the ocean, but there were things here that she thought only survived in warmer waters. Huge swaths of kelp, soft to the touch as they flowed in the currents; brightly-colored coral on rocky ledges and dropoffs; the kind of ugly fish she thought lived in the tropics; and even a few anemones (she _did_ learned something from _Finding Nemo_).

At some point, Killian found a white, flower-like plant, plucked it, and brought it over to her. Gently, he tucked a loose chunk of hair behind her ear and secured it with the flower. "Now you look like a true mermaid princess," he said softly, eyes filled with adoration. She could only smile (and blush profusely) in response.

With as beautiful as it all was, she could hardly believe that this was somewhere he'd want to leave, or a life he'd want to give up. For the first time, she thought back to what happened earlier that day, and part of why she'd come down here in the first place: _he's my true love_. _But what if he feels more at home down here? Can I give up my life on land?_

She wasn't long with her thoughts as they arrived at a massive anchor sitting in the muck. "Is that the _Jolly Roger_'s?"

"Aye. I thought...we might do a bit of stargazing." He scratched that spot behind his ear in the middle of his thick dark hair (which was a bit longer than usual and flowing freely in the water), and gave her a slightly bashful stare from under his thick lashes.

"Down here?" She looked up; the waning moon cut a narrow path of light through the water, but she certainly couldn't make out any stars.

"No; on my ship." She could tell from his gentle tone that he was serious, so she wouldn't question it.

He drew her close to him. "Hold on," he said, and she could feel them rising through the sea...and kept going when they broke through the surface. Her arms were tight around his waist as he lifted them up in a column of water to the ship's railing, gently setting her down on it before taking his own seat and allowing the water to return to where it belonged.

"How was that?" he asked, a bit of a cocky smirk on his face that told her he was proud of it.

"Like a wet elevator," she jokingly replied.

"A what?" _Oh duh._

"I'll take you to a mall sometime and show you one."

"I like the sound of that." She took that as a good sign as he pulled her close.

There would be time for serious conversations later. In that moment, she was feeling more relaxed and confident in both herself and them, as she nestled into the side of her true love, than she ever had.

* * *

Killian still couldn't believe this was real—that he actually had Emma by his side, and she had a tail. A bloody beautiful tail that sparkled alongside his in the moonlight as they sat close on the railing of his ship. Never in his many years had he imagined such a thing, or how happy it could make him.

A small nagging voice in the back of his mind reminded him it wouldn't last, but he was going to ignore it for the time being and just enjoy what moments they had together in these forms.

"Why stargazing?" He could see curiosity written across her otherwise content features.

"Swan, I spent the last several days confined below the surface, and as thrilled as I am to have you next to me underwater at the moment, I still miss some things above it." He glanced back up at the sky. "Stars have been my constant companions these past centuries; almost nothing can calm me more."

"Are they the same in every realm?"

"No, not quite; but I've yet to find a realm that doesn't have any."

A quiet calm settled over them as they both gazed at the sky and she lay her head on his shoulder, until she spoke up again.

"How did you learn to navigate with them?"

He laughed quietly. "So many questions tonight, love."

She playfully smacked her fin against his and smiled. "I just know so little about where you come from."

He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed; he couldn't remember the last time anyone truly cared to learn his background, possibly save for Henry. "Well, it was compulsory for a naval navigator to know how; we didn't have your GPS systems, I think they're called, so we had to rely on what was there. I was trained in the naval academy, and my brother taught me some before that."

"Liam, right?"

"Aye." _Oh brother, how I wish you could see this_. He had imagined more than once in the past few weeks what it would have been like had Liam also known their true parentage; had they been able to share the sea in this manner. He was finally something of a man his brother could be proud of, even if he didn't fully look it. And he owed so much of it to the glorious creature nestled at his side; his happy ending; his _true love?_ The day's events weren't far from his mind, but they had plenty of time to discuss it.

The stars grew brighter as the hour grew later. They had both lost track of time, too caught up in simply being together. He noticed that she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open, and he too felt his eyelids grow heavy.

"Do you need to head home, love? Wouldn't want to worry your parents."

"No; I told them not to wait up," she said with a slight smile. "I was hoping—" a yawn interrupted her thoughts. "I was hoping that...I might be able to stay with you tonight." She blinked up at him shyly. "You know, get the whole mermaid experience."

He was momentarily awestruck, and had to make a conscious effort to not let his jaw drop. "Of course, Swan," he said, probably too quickly. He offered his arm. "Allow me to escort you back to your lodgings." She smirked back and grabbed on. "Alright, hold tight."

He used his good hand to launch himself off the railing and could feel her squeezing his arm and trailing just behind. At the last second, he raised his right arm ahead and dove into the water gracefully and nearly soundlessly; the splash he heard almost simultaneously suggested that Emma didn't have quite the same re-entrance.

A chuckle escaped his mouth as he saw her regaining her bearings, hair a mess around her head.

"Jeez, give a warning next time!" She was trying to be angry but the laughter in her eyes told him otherwise. "Show off," she muttered as she swam past. He watched her for a moment before catching up.

She was still getting used to having a tail, he could tell—she didn't have the same ease of movement he saw in Ariel and likely possessed himself. But she had more control than when she first dove under the sea, and if the expression on her face was any indication, she clearly enjoyed it.

Her childlike awe at everything was just as infectious on the way back to the cove as it had been going to the harbor. She was so enraptured with everything that had become old hat to him over the past weeks that he felt as if he was seeing it for the first time, too. He was especially taken with the way she swam through the many kelp forests, letting the fronds gently caress her skin (he never realized until that moment that it was possible to be jealous of a plant).

He couldn't describe how happy it made him that she was enjoying herself down here. Ever-present pessimistic thoughts in his mind had allowed doubt to slip in that the enchantment on his father's cuff wouldn't be able to be restored, even though he had full faith in Emma's and Regina's capabilities. But if, for some reason it didn't work, at least they had this. He certainly didn't expect her to give up her life and family on land to be with him, so he was thrilled that there was still some way for them to be together. _I owe Ursula a serious debt of gratitude_.

When they arrived back at the cove, she paused and glanced around, biting her lip. "So...where do you sleep?"

He responded by drifting down into the bed of kelp he'd become all too familiar with, placing his hook behind his head. "Right here."

"Really?" Disbelief was written on her face.

"Aye, love, come—it's actually quite comfortable." He patted his hand on the foliage next to him.

She wore a look of doubt, possibly mixed with pity, as she slowly laid down next to him. But that quickly changed to a peaceful smile when she sank into the surprisingly plush greens. "Ok, I believe you."

She tucked into his side as he wrapped his arm under her shoulder, laid her head on his chest, and reached across to lay her hand over his racing heart. When she coiled her tail around his, he thought his heart might beat out of his chest altogether (_at least she's here to catch it_, he joked to himself). Emma had become much more open with her affections in the past few weeks, but this was a whole new level—one he hoped they stayed at.

They laid there for some time, soaking in this new intimacy. Despite their earlier drowsiness, neither one seemed to drift off very easily; Killian knew his adrenaline was running due to their proximity, and he wondered if that might be the cause for her insomnia. But when when he glanced down at her face, she was focused on something; her brow was furrowed in the tell-tale sign of an internal debate.

"You should get some rest, love; it's been a long day."

"That it has. A lot happened. I was just...mulling it all over."

_Is she thinking about...what I've been thinking about?_ He didn't want her to feel pressured into a heavy conversation this late. "Swan, don't worry about it now; we can—"

"No, wait. I want to." She closed her eyes in concentration, as if she was mustering the strength for something. He swallowed, having no idea what was to come.

She finally opened her eyes and stared into his, her jade irises appearing an even darker shade of emerald in the depths of the water. "Killian," she said at long last.

"Yes, Emma?" He hoped the calm of his voice hid the panic that was lying behind it. Whatever she was gearing up for was clearly a big deal.

"Killian, I...I love you."

It hit him like a tidal wave; the realization of the words that had just slipped out of her mouth washed over him, and even though he was breathing underwater, he felt like he could drown in them. He could feel the ridiculous grin that spread over his face, but he didn't care in the slightest. _She loves me_.

"I love you, too, Emma. More than you could possibly know." He pulled her in closer, if that was possible, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Um, actually, I did know, kind of."

Her cryptic words didn't dampen his mood—_she loves me, she bloody loves me_—but did pique his curiosity; he raised an eyebrow in question.

"Today, on the dock, when I saved you; that was—"

"—true love's kiss?" he finished.

She looked up at him with a shy smile and love in her eyes. "Yeah." But then her eyes narrowed. "Wait, you knew?"

"I had a hunch."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want you to feel any pressure, love."

There was a calm in her eyes for the first time since they'd came down here. She pressed a small kiss against his jaw and whispered, "Thank you." She tucked her head under his chin and let out a content sigh.

_I could stay here forever_. What more did he need, but the woman he loved—and who loved him back—at his side? It was all he had dared to hope for, but the fact that they were true love was beyond his dreams (and far beyond anything he thought he'd ever get or deserve).

The future was likely to be complicated, but there'd be time to discuss where they went from here. For now, he was content to hold Emma close, and enjoy the first night of many with his true love.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!_


	26. Up Where They Walk

_Happy Mermaid Day! (I hope you're all still alive after everything that's been going on in Paris!)_

_There's only one more chapter after this—ahh! Thank you all so much for your support &amp; kind words through this!_

* * *

The next morning came entirely too soon for either of their liking. Killian was awoken not by the sun's rays shining directly on him, but by the fidgeting of the form to his side.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered into her hair and pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

"Mmm, good morning," she said tiredly as she stretched and squinted. "Is this always how you wake up?"

"With a beautiful lass in my arms? Afraid not." She giggled. "But I hope to make it a habit."

"I like the sound of that." She stared into his eyes with a look of want, happiness, and _love_, and found his lips for a very long moment. She promptly curled back into his side, burying her head in his shoulder and placing her hand over his heart. "Ugh, I don't want to go back up there," she whined as she traced the outline of his swan tattoo. "It's so relaxing down here."

He swallowed. As thrilled as he was to hear that, he knew that she couldn't stay away from Henry and her parents for long. "I'm happy to hear you say that, Swan; but I know you, and I know you'd miss your family. Especially Henry."

She sighed. "I know. But…" She trailed off before propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him. "But I don't want to pull you away from where you're supposed to be."

He was taken aback—_she thinks I'm meant to be down here?_ "My love, the only place I'm supposed to be—the only place I _want _to be—is at your side, wherever that may be." He grasped her hand in his to drive home the point, but she didn't look convinced.

"Killian, are you sure? I can see how natural it is for you to be down here. You love it."

"Emma," he said firmly, making sure she was looking in his eyes. "I love _you_. And I want to be part of _your _world; I've had my fair share of mine." He reached up to cup her cheek. "I told you, love: you're my happy ending."

She finally smiled back, looking almost relieved. "Okay." The way the sunlight glowed off her flowing hair made her look entirely ethereal; paired with her beautiful smile, there was no way he could resist kissing her. He pulled her in, slow at first, but then eager to express all his adoration, hope, and love for her. It finally wasn't a spur-of-the-moment expression of emotion, but a promise for the future.

When they eventually broke apart, she kept her forehead pressed against his. "I'm going to talk to Regina today about fixing your cuff," she said softly.

"Sounds like an excellent plan, love."

"But I'm going to hold on to mine."

"Even better."

Reluctantly, they left the kelp bed (he hoped for the last time) and slowly swam up to the surface. They both perched on the rock, and Emma was happy to see that her clothes were still there, albeit a bit wet with morning dew. ("Nothing my magic can't handle," she said with a smile and wave of her hand.) Gently, she slid the cuff off her wrist; he watched in awe as her tail glowed and split back into legs.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, thinking back to his own painful transformation.

"No; it tingles a bit, but otherwise feels fine. Why?"

"I'm relieved, then; I cannot say the same, but perhaps it's because mine was of a more permanent nature."

Her brow furrowed in concern, and she placed a kiss on his forehead, despite the way she was shivering in the morning coolness.

"Get dressed, Emma."

"What, don't you enjoy the view?" she stammered out from chattering teeth.

"I've seen you frozen enough for one lifetime, love." She could only smirk back as she put her clothes back on and hummed to herself.

"Ugh, I swear—I'm going to have _The Little Mermaid_ stuck in my head forever now," she complained as she pulled her jeans on.

"What's that, love?"

"It's a movie. Actually," she paused, looking at him. "We're kind of living it."

"Another thing to show me on the Netflix?" he guessed.

"Yeah," she chuckled as she pulled her shirt on. Once she finally got her jacket and boots back on, she looked much more comfortable, and he could breathe easy knowing she was warm.

She sat back down next to him, running her hand over his shoulder and arm. She was smiling, but there was a hint of sadness to it.

"What is it, Swan?"

Her smile ticked up at one corner. "This might be the last time I leave you here in the cove."

"I'd think that's a good thing; wouldn't you?"

"Yeah; but some parts of this have been nice."

"Aye. But there are many more ahead of us."

She hummed her agreement and leaned in for one last peck. "Stay tuned," she whispered.

He didn't quite know what that phrase meant, but he said he would.

As he watched her walk back to her vessel, the thought that he'd soon be joining her back on land replaced any sadness he felt at her departure.

He dove back into the sea when she was out of sight, making one last round of his underwater home before he was reunited with his true love.

* * *

Emma hated to leave, especially after all that had just happened between them, but knowing that he'd be back on two legs soon enough was her motivation. She called Regina as soon as she got back to the Bug and made a plan to meet in her vault.

But first, she needed a moment to collect herself. Sitting in the comfort of her car, she expected to finally have a freak-out about what she'd said. _I told him I love him._

_And he said it back._

_And we're true love_.

But she didn't lose it. She didn't want to run. She wasn't compelled to push away or hide. For the first time in a long time (_though not as long as it's been for him_), she felt confident about love for someone other than Henry. More than confident—_happy, truly happy_. The grin that took over her face couldn't be stopped, and maybe a few happy tears were shed. She wiped her cheeks dry as she shifted into gear, eager for whatever was to come.

Regina's vault didn't give Emma the creeps as much as it used to, though whether it was due to the fact that Regina didn't rely on dark magic anymore or due to having been in Gold's even creepier workshop, she wasn't sure. She double checked her pockets to make sure she still had the cuff, and the golden-blue scales that Killian had given her a while ago.

Regina was waiting by a small cauldron over something resembling a bunsen burner.

"Is this potions class, Professor Snape?"

"Very funny, Miss Swan." _I really can't wait for the day she can take a joke_. "Do you have what you were supposed to bring?"

"Yup," Emma replied as she pulled out the cuff and scales, placing them on the table next to the cauldron. Regina already had vials of sea water and the Agrabah sand, and Belle was bringing the tadpole legs.

Before too long of an awkward silence, Emma spoke up. "Thank you for helping with this, Regina; and I know Killian thanks you, too."

Regina was silent for a moment, fiddling with the cauldron, but then looked up. "This is probably going to sound strange, coming from me, but...it's my pleasure."

She was right; that did sound strange. But before Emma could comment (or close her mouth that had fallen open in surprise), Regina continued. "I'm...happy for you, Emma. Despite all the outside forces—mine included—you found your family and you found love—_true_ love. If that's not a happy ending, I don't know what is."

Emma's cheeks grew red, but she couldn't deny the truth of what Regina was saying. Until a nagging prick of guilt reminded her of how Regina's own situation.

"I'm sorry that all this craziness prevented us from finding the author and from finding your happy ending. You deserve it, too, Regina."

"Actually, I kind of did." The queen's reply shocked her.

"You did?"

"Yes. I realized over the past few weeks that, with everything I've been doing with you and your family, and the rest of Storybrooke, I had become part of something much bigger than myself. And, truthfully, that was all I needed." She paused, shaking her head. "I just got so tired of standing in the way of my own happiness, and I'm not going to do it anymore."

Emma smiled. "I'm proud of you." In the past, Regina would have glared or stated that she didn't need Emma's pride; but now, she only smiled gently, clearly proud of herself as well.

An unusual sense of calm settled over the women in what seemed to be the start of an actual friendship; the peace was only interrupted by the sound of heels against the vault's stone steps as Belle arrived and the subsequent reminder to get down to business.

"Looks like potions class—" Belle started, but stopped when she saw Regina's glare. "Oookay then; what do we need to do?"

"You: read," Regina said tersley, wasting no time in handing the merfolk book to Belle. "Emma, I'll need your help with the spell."

Belle listed off what Regina needed to do with the ingredients—grinding, pouring, stirring, sprinkling. (Emma winced a tiny bit when the scales were crushed.) It resulted in a soupy mixture at the bottom of the cauldron.

"Alright now, Emma, this is where you come in," Belle said. "You need to get the cuff to absorb the potion."

She squinted a bit in confusion. "What, just throw it in there until it soaks it up?"

Belle skimmed over the text quickly before pushing it in front of Emma. "Read here; it says what you need to do."

Emma was getting better at understanding the old language in most of these books, and thankfully this one was fairly straightforward. She read it twice, to be safe, before picking up the cuff and placing it in the cauldron. Careful not to touch it, as the book said that could ruin the spell, she held her hand over it and closed her eyes in concentration. She envisioned the cuff soaking up the brew and immediately felt the familiar prick of her magic as it began to work. Finally daring to open her eyes, she could see that it was working: the liquid in the basin was decreasing rapidly and the cuff was taking on a bluish glow. It didn't take long for the cauldron to be dry.

She hesitated a bit before reaching in. "Does it need to set or anything?"

Belle glanced at the page again. "No, you should be good."

Slowly, she dropped her hand in and pulled out the cuff; the enchantment was positively radiating from it. "Wow," was all she could say.

"Best not keep your merman waiting," Regina said with a friendly smirk. _That will take some getting used to_, Emma thought regarding this new, upbeat Regina (but she was happy for it).

"Thank you again, Regina." She started to leave, but then turned back around. "Do either of you want to come?"

"I'd love to!" Belle exclaimed, but Regina shook her head. "I'm going to clean up and then meet with Henry. But let me know how it goes."

"Will do." With that, she and Belle practically ran from the vault back to the Bug.

Emma fished the shell out of her pocket. "Hey, Killian?"

Barely a moment passed before he responded. "What is it, Swan?"

"Meet me at the docks in 15 minutes."

Of course, he was already there when they arrived. Emma and Belle rushed to the end of the dock where he was seated, and she greeted him a with a quick kiss after he said his hellos to the two of them.

"Well?" he asked, excitement shining in his eyes.

Emma smiled and reached into her pocket to pull out the cuff. The magic in it seemed even stronger in his presence, and his uncharacteristic shudder suggested he could feel it, too.

"You ready?"

"Aye."

"Ok." She moved to place it on his wrist, but then remembered what her mom said—only the person who puts it on can take it off, so she hesitated.

"What is it, love?"

"You have to put it on. Hold on." She glanced at his hook; it looked like the cuff might fit inside. So she grabbed it and pulled it close, despite his sound of protest. It fit perfect. "Ok, there you go."

There was a touch of hurt in his eyes when he looked at her. "Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you might want to take it off when I'm not around." She knew Ruby enjoyed stretching her wolf legs when the time was right, so she knew he'd want to revisit the sea from time to time (as she did, too). And she wouldn't be the one to hold him back from that.

He seemed to understand, but went on to say, "Emma, I doubt I'll much want to leave your side once this is on, if it works. But if it makes you feel better, I'll do it." She nodded.

He stared at the cuff for a second, as if he was studying it, then glanced back up at Emma, then Belle. Then, slowly, he brought it over to his right wrist and twisted it on.

The same glow that had engulfed Emma's lower half when she put on her cuff took over his tail. All three stared in wonder, waiting for the light to dissipate and for what it would reveal.

It seemed to take forever, but it finally dimmed, leaving behind Killian's strong, slender legs. He immediately reached up to Emma's face and dragged her in for a celebratory kiss. "You're a marvel, love. You, too, Belle," he shouted back to where the librarian stood, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Emma wasn't sure she'd ever seen him grin bigger or for longer, and she giggled a bit as he kicked his legs back and forth like a little kid.

Until he realized just how bare his legs were, as was the rest of him, and he shrunk back, embarrassed.

"Oh, um, I'm afraid I'm a bit indecent, lasses," he stammered out, staring down bashfully and scratching behind his ear. Belle chuckled behind a hand, but Emma just shook her head and conjured a large towel that she began to wrap around him. She wished she'd made it thicker when he began shivering, but she had an idea to warm him up, and maybe do a little more _celebrating_.

Ever helpful, Belle chimed in. "Do you want me to go fetch some blankets from the car or…" But she trailed off after seeing the glimmer in Emma's eye. "Actually, I should probably head home," she said with a knowing smirk.

"Thanks again for your help, Belle," Killian said, despite his shaking.

"You're absolutely welcome, Killian. It's nice to see you on legs again." She squeezed his shoulder before leaving.

Once Belle was off the dock and headed for town, Emma helped Killian stand—he was a bit shaky after so long at sea. "Guess you need to get your land legs back."

"Perhaps. I think having a beautiful woman at my side helps," he said with a wink.

They made their way up the dock, a bit slowly, with their arms wrapped around each other. He began to head to the Bug, but she tugged him back toward her. "Swan?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Well, you're cold, aren't you?"

"Yes, which is why I'd much like to get back to my warm room at Granny's."

She looked up at him from under her lashes, hoping he could see the fire in her eyes. "I bet I know a way to get you warmed up faster, and we can do it right on the _Jolly Roger_," she said, gesturing to the ship beside them.

"Is that so?" he said in a heavy tone. His tongue darted across his lower lip as he stared down at her, eyes suddenly flashing hungry. "Lead the way, love."

* * *

_Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts!_


	27. Part of Your World

_Ahh, it's the last chapter! Thank you to everyone who has commented on/followed this this through the whole thing; it means more than I can say!_

_I may revisit this 'verse again in the future, but for now, we're at the end. HAPPY MERMAID DAY!_

* * *

"Killian, what are you doing?"

Emma's groggy voice carried across the cabin to where Killian stood in front of the washbasin, carefully manicuring his beard. He hadn't realized how wild it had become until he saw himself in the looking glass earlier; for someone who prided himself in (and sometimes relied on) his good looks, he thought he appeared downright slovenly.

"I'm grooming, Swan. Why didn't you tell me I looked so unkempt?"

"Well, _I_ liked it," she replied defiantly.

He glanced over at where she lay on the bunk in the captain's quarters. A blanket covered her bare form from the chest down and she was propped up on her elbows, watching him.

She had certainly seemed a fan of every part of him last night, there was no denying, and the feeling was more than mutual. She'd done a fine job of _warming him up_, in a manner that was more satisfying, more intimate, more beautiful, more _everything _than he had ever even dared to imagine. If there were any lingering doubts that they were true love, they had been dashed away by how perfectly their bodies fit together.

He thought their previous night underwater had brought them closer than ever; it was nothing compared to this one. They stayed entwined the whole night, easily falling asleep wrapped in one another, and more than happy to wake in the same manner.

He finished with his beard and inspected himself in the mirror, running a hand through his too-long locks and making a mental note to ask David to recommend a barber, before wandering back over to his awake Swan and peppering her cheek and neck with kisses. He relished the way she melted under his touch.

"Good morning," he whispered, having déjà vu to the day before.

"I'd say so," she said softly back. "Why don't you come back to bed and we make it better?"

He hummed in appreciation. "While that does sound quite amazing, I feel like we'll need to leave eventually. Wouldn't want the townsfolk thinking the law enforcement ran away to become a pirate."

"Or a mermaid."

He chuckled. "Or a mermaid. You'd be excellent at either one."

She buried her face in his chest and sighed. "I like this. Can we do this every day?"

"If that's what you want, then I'd love to."

"Good. I love you."

"And I you."

She placed a quick kiss against his skin before throwing off the covers, revealing her beautiful form, and getting dressed. He watched as she picked up her garments from the various places they'd landed around the cabin, thinking back fondly on the night before.

"Enjoying the show?"

"Very much, love."

"And where's mine?"

_Oh...bloody hell_. "Um, I haven't any clothing here, I just realized."

She smirked. "Is that so?"

"Aye." He had managed to find some smallclothes of his on the ship, but he had yet to properly reclaim it as his home (which involved burning anything Blackbeard had left behind, _the bastard_).

"You sure?" Her playful tone suggested she was up to something, and all of a sudden he noticed a stack of clothes—_his_ clothes—next to him on the bed. He could only chuckle and get dressed; her magic, and her confidence in her magic, was something he would never tire of.

"Wouldn't want my dad to lock you up for indecent exposure," she said seductively as she came over to press a kiss against his lips and button his waistcoat while he was distracted.

"Good thing I'm friends with the sheriff," he replied.

"I think we're a little more than _friends_, buddy."

He smiled down at his true love, wondering how he ever got so lucky. "Aye; that we are."

With one last peck, she threw on her coat and dragged him off the ship. He was nearly reacclimated with walking on land, and he couldn't think of a better way to get used to it again than by taking a stroll through Storybrooke. It was still relatively early in the day, so few people were out, but the lights at Granny's gave off a welcome glow.

"Look what the fishing net dragged in."

"It's good to see you, too, Granny," he returned, blushing a bit. He should have known the dwarf would spread that particular embarrassing detail of the adventure.

They slid into their usual booth and he marveled at how much had happened since he last sat there, yet how it felt so normal still. (And how much he liked normal.)

Ruby arrived shortly with their regular orders, and slid a glass of rum his way.

"Isn't it a little early to be serving alcohol?" Emma asked, smirking the whole time.

"That's what I said, but _someone _insisted on it as a 'welcome back,'" Ruby replied, shaking her head but smiling. He glanced up to see Granny's wolfish grin coming from behind the counter; he raised the glass in thanks. Of all the things he missed, rum was certainly up there; why merfolk had an aversion, he didn't care to know and was glad his digestive system could stomach it again.

There was one last question lingering in his mind. He found his answer when he heard Emma's surprised gasp a moment later.

Her hand flew to the top of her head, feeling the water that had just landed there. She glanced up at the ceiling, as if to look for a leak. That was his cue to pull another drop of water out of his glass and let it fall right on her nose.

He was about to let another one loose when she figured out what was going on, as if she could hear his sideways grin. "Really?" He let the drop fall back in the cup but his expression didn't change.

"Well, I had to figure out if I still had my powers some way…uf!" She kicked him under the table, but smiled nonetheless. They shared a playful look before digging back into their meals.

Good food, good rum, a bit of magic, and the love of his life; what more did he need?

* * *

In the weeks that followed, life in Storybrooke settled into a new normal. Things were as calm as they were prior to the Dark One's return, yet somehow better knowing he no longer posed a threat.

Killian was more than happy to move out of Granny's and back on to the _Jolly Roger_, which Emma subtly outfitted with some preferred modern amenities. She claimed it was it was for his comfort and so he could keep his new talking phone charged, but with the increasing number of nights she spent on the ship, he suspected it was for her benefit as well. He certainly didn't mind, though, especially as that helped him keep up his new habit of waking with a certain exceptionally beautiful lass in his arms (though they both knew she'd be there anyway).

Getting reacclimated to life on land wasn't hard, but getting used to life as a merman on land threw him for the occasional loop. Most notably, the call of the sea was amplified—it hummed in his veins and made his magic prick in his fingers when he had spent a considerable amount of time away from it. Emma could always tell when he was he feeling it, as it tended to set him a bit on edge (and there may have been a few small whirlpools found in nearby liquids).

Usually, spending his (their) nights on the _Roger _was enough to calm him, but on the days where the itch was exceptionally magnified, the only relief was to be in the water. As soon as he entered the sea, leaving the cuff behind and allowing his fin to be fully exposed, the internal frenzy died down and he could relax.

On one such day, Emma was eating breakfast with her mother at Granny's when her phone went off.

"_Just you and me, and I could be part of your world_," sounded from the device.

Snow gaped at the phone for a second, before asking, "Is that—"

But before she could finish, a sheepish Emma answered the phone. "Hi, Killian."

"Love, are you alright?"

"Yeah; I'll tell you later. What's up?"

"I was about to go for a swim. Would you care to join me?"

"Sure! I'll be down in a bit."

"See you soon."

It wasn't the first time she'd joined him on an undersea outing, and she'd taken to leaving her cuff on the ship for that express purpose. He was waiting for her in the cabin in nought but his underwear; they'd quickly figured out what clothing would and wouldn't survive a transformation (the smaller, the better). She changed into her swimsuit as quick as she could and they went back above deck, which she usually covered in a cloaking spell—for all his innuendo and chest-baring, Killian was surprisingly shy about the rest of him being exposed so publicly.

Propped on the railing, much like they had been when they were stargazing, Killian used his hook to pull off his cuff while Emma placed hers on and they dove in.

They usually just explored the harbor and the cove—the barrier around Storybrooke was still there, so they couldn't go much farther—and observed the changing sea life as the weather and water got warmer.

Occasionally, she'd help him with some underwater maintenance on the Jolly Roger, or they'd prank some unsuspecting residents (usually Leroy) with a few well-placed jets of water.

One night, Emma was experimenting and discovered that she could create a lightshow under the water just as she could above. They spent the better part of that evening with him shooting jets of water up and her setting them aglow with a rainbow of lights.

He couldn't think of a time in his life where he was happier, or when he had seen Emma more at ease. While the past few weeks had been trying, they had completely changed his (and her) life.

He had learned more about himself than at any time his past centuries, regarding his history and his capabilities, but also his character: he was not only a merman, but he was a hero (as odd as that still felt to say).

And he'd done it all with Emma, his true love, at his side, and they had become closer than ever. For the first time in ages, he was looking forward to what the future would bring.

It had been quite the experience, but as he glanced over at the beautiful, amazing woman swimming next to him, he knew he wouldn't trade it for anything.


	28. Kissing the Girl (Valentine's One-Shot)

A/N: I revisited this 'verse to write a Valentine's one-shot for my dearest darlingest Mutton. (Lyrics belong to Disney!)

* * *

Emma was almost regretting introducing Killian to _The Little Mermaid_; after their adventure to restore his legs, it had quickly become his favorite film, though he was quick to point out its inaccuracies (especially if her mother was nearby). "Any sailor worth his salt would notice a storm like that hours before." "I'm quite glad our Ursula looks nothing like that." "Your Highness, didn't you say they danced at a ball?"

But every time she caught him singing "Under the Sea" or "Part of Your World" in the shower, his warm voice sounding through the house and right into her heart, she decided it had been worth it.

So she really should have seen this coming. Especially on Valentine's Day, and knowing full well what a goddamn romantic he is. He hadn't told her much, other than to wear her swimsuit, bring her cuff, and meet him down at the cove by the mines. When she arrived there, the rowboat from the _Jolly Roger_ had been dragged up on shore and Killian was waiting, lounging on a flat rock in full merman glory; she didn't think she'd ever tire of the sight of his gorgeous golden tail, shining exceptionally bright in the waning orange light of the sun.

Emma took a seat next to him on the stone and greeted him with a quick peck on the lips before asking the main thing that had been nagging at her since she arrived: "So what's a merman doing with a boat?"

"Celebrating Valentine's Day with the woman he loves," he replied, both cockily and lovingly.

Emma hummed happily. "She must be quite the lucky woman."

Killian smiled back, blushing slightly, before gesturing to the vessel. "Climb aboard, Swan; your carriage awaits."

She cocked an eyebrow in question, but obliged, stepping in and settling down on the sturdy, aged bench as he called on his powers to grab a swell of water and guide the little boat into the sea. For a brief moment, she thought it might capsize as he climbed in, but it quickly righted itself and he grabbed the oars to begin rowing.

"Just where are we headed?" she enquired, noting that they were sticking close to the coast.

"You'll see," was his cryptic reply. She huffed—patience had never been her string suit—while he just chuckled. At least I can enjoy the view; watching his upper body muscles work as he rowed was a pleasant distraction.

Shortly, they arrived at another cove that she'd never seen before. Actually, lagoon was probably a better description: willow trees hung heavy over the water, creating almost a shelter over this little secluded spot, and cattails and grasses grew in thick bunches. As Killian rowed them through an opening in the trees, he began singing.

_"There you see her, sitting there across the way…"_

_Oh, he did not_, she thought. But he did. Under the tree cover, what was left of the sun set a blue glow as it filtered through the leaves and the quiet din of crickets and croaking frogs provided a symphony-like backdrop to his serenade.

_"And you don't know why, but you're dyin' to try—you wanna kiss the girl…"_

_Of course he'd take you on a Disney date, Emma_. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes, laugh at the fact that she lived in a cartoon, but the rest of her couldn't help but melt as he privately serenaded her and realized all the fantasies she'd had watching the movie as a little girl.

"You know, we've already had a true love's kiss," she commented. He just smiled and shook his head.

Once they reached the middle of the cove, he stopped rowing. She could feel his magic in the air as he anchored them in a small whirlpool and sent fountains up all around them, just like in the movie.

_"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh, my; look at the boy, too shy. He ain't gonna kiss the girl…"_

_He better_, she thought with a smile, using her own magic to add a thousand twinkle lights to the little grove and deciding it was high time she joined in.

She sang, _"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, don't be scared; you got the mood prepared; go on and kiss the girl!"_ She knew she was skipping ahead in the song, but she needed to send a hint; he only smirked in response. So she continued.

_"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, don't stop now; don't try to hide it how you wanna kiss the girl..."_ She began to lean toward him, staring up at him through her lashes.

_"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, float along. Listen to the song—the song say kiss the girl."_ He too moved towards her, as if pulled by an unseen force, and she closed her eyes.

_"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, music play. Do what the music say; you wanna kiss the girl…"_ They were only inches apart now, and she could feel his breath against her lips, sending a jolt of warmth through her body despite the February chill. Just when she thought they would connect, though, the air grew cold and she heard a splash.

Quickly opening her eyes, she glanced around, but Killian was nowhere to be seen. _Bastard went under._ As if sensing her thoughts, his golden tail flipped magnificently from the water in a showy spray before disappearing as he dove back down.

As fast as she could, to avoid being exposed in the near-freezing temperatures for too long, Emma stripped down to her bikini and dug out her enchanted cuff. It was barely on before she was in the water, and she had never been more thankful for the magic's side effect of making her immune to the cold. The now-familiar tingling sensation that accompanied her transformation told her that it had taken fast.

She'd gotten much better at swimming as a mermaid in the past few months, so it was no effort at all to dive down with a flick of her green tail.

Killian was waiting for her not far below the surface, surrounded by kelp and the lovely white flowers that only grew under the sea. He tucked one behind her ear when she reached him before pulling her into his arms; the feeling of being skin-to-skin and tail-to-tail always gave her the best kind of goosebumps.

Overhead, the full moon had come out and shone down on them like a spotlight. She started to talk—to admonish him for sending her down here without an explanation—but he cut her off, singing.

_"Yes, you want her. Look at her, you know you do. It's possible she wants you, too; there is one way to ask her."_ His hooked arm wrapped tight around her waist and his hand caught in her free-flowing hair. His eyes, even bluer down here, stared down at her with adoration and warmth.

_"It don't take a word; not a single word—"_

_"Go on and kiss the girl,"_ she finished, almost whispering.

And he did. Oh, he did. Even in the frigid Maine waters, even in this cold-blooded mermaid form, Emma tangibly felt the heat behind that kiss from top to tail. It radiated from soft lips and cool scales and warm palms and his chest against hers. It sent the ocean around them into a whirling tizzy of waves and bubbles, and she had no idea if it was her magic or Killian's or both working in harmony.

Emma had no idea if it lasted seconds, minutes, or hours, but at some point, she realized they were just floating, tails coiled tight in a full-bodied embrace. "I love you, Emma," Killian whispered reverently. "So much," he added, with a kiss against her temple.

"I love you, too, Killian. So, so much." She underlined it with a peck against the underside of his jaw. "Thank you for the best Valentine's Day ever." She pulled back slightly, looking him in the eye and running her hand across his scruffy chin. "But I feel bad; I didn't do anything for you."

"You didn't need to, Swan."

"I want to."

"Well...there may be one thing we can do," he said, smirking suggestively.

"And what's that?" (As if she didn't know.)

"Accompany me back to the _Roger_?"

"I think we can arrange that."


	29. mermaid Captain Charming

Just some Captain Charming Friday fun :)

* * *

While enjoying his usual morning breakfast at Granny's, Killian suddenly found himself with a guest. David slid into the empty booth across from him and attempted a casual "good morning," but given his out-of-the-ordinary appearance and general look of consternation, it was easy for Killian to tell that something was up. (Apparently, his ability to read Emma so well was inherited on her part.)

"What brings you in today, David?"

"Uh, well...I'm not sure how to ask this…" It was rare for the prince to be so hesitant, and rarer still that he came to Killian with a question—they usually were already lumped together, facing off against one villain or another. "Well, you know how you and Emma went on that vacation to visit Ariel and Eric?"

"Aye." They'd spent a week with his "mermate," as Emma called her, enjoying the amenities of Eric's maritime kingdom.

"I was wondering...do you think that cuff of yours works both ways?" he asked, gesturing to the leather bracelet on the pirate's wrist—the one that kept his tail at bay.

Killian was more than taken aback at the prince's query; _since when had he any desire to join the ranks of merfolk?_ Had he perhaps grown intrigued by tales of underwater adventures from Emma? (Or, all those months ago, when Killian thought the man had been eyeing his tail in mere surface curiosity, had it ran deeper than that?)

Regardless of the reason, Killian had a free day ahead of him in which he'd already planned to take a dive; _company couldn't hurt_.

"I don't know, mate; but I'm willing to find out if you are." David's grin was the only reply he needed.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?"

The pair were on board the Jolly Roger, per Killian's usual routine. For Storybrooke, it wasn't actually that cold, so he couldn't understand the prince's sudden protest.

"Mate, us mermen have no need for jeans and leather jackets; you'd just lose them in the transition. So yes, removing your clothing is necessary." Killian had already shirked his coat and vest, and was in the process of taking off his button-up.

David sighed. "Alright, but would you mind...turning around or something?"

Killian smirked at Dave's modesty. "If you insist."

Minutes later, he was perched on the railing, clothing and cuff off, with the midmorning sun glancing off his golden scales. "You ready?" he called out, keeping his word to avert his gaze.

"Yeah, I think so." Killian finally looked in the prince's direction; it turned out that he, too, had looked away, and continued to do so, leaving his back facing Killian.

"You're gonna have to turn around to come get the cuff." He'd never taken David to be a prude, but was being proven otherwise.

"No; just...toss it over here." So Killian sighed and threw it at David's bare back, hitting him square between the shoulder blades. The resulting cry of surprise was well worth the sneak attack.

David finally faced him, having to in order to scoop the cuff off the deck, and glared at Killian the whole time while walking over to the railing and sitting on it like Killian had, with his legs dangling over the water. (To his credit, Killian had been nothing but a gentleman, never letting his eyes travel farther south than David's. But he smirked all the same just to tease.)

"So I just...slide it on?" David asked, holding the cuff up. "And it works automatically?"

"It's just that." Though, of course, it remained to be seen if it would work; just because it turned his tail into legs didn't mean it would do the reverse as well.

_Or maybe it does_. For no sooner had David slipped it onto his wrist than his lower half began to glow, much like Emma's did with her own bracelet. Both men watched with interest as the light emitting from David's lower half increased in intensity and gradually faded, revealing, to their relief, a tail.

Killian had yet to discern any rhyme or reason for the color, pattern, or shape of an individual's tail, but for those not born with them (or without at least some of the necessary genes, like he had), it tended to match their eye color. David's, in particular, was shaped much like Emma's, with a two-pronged fin, and was an overall light blue that matched his irises, with striations down the length in a slightly darker tone. "That's quite a handsome tail you have there, your highness," he commented, not even trying to hide his admiration. No, it wasn't as flashy as his own, but it fit Dave perfectly.

David just grinned in response, and gave his new appendage a gentle flip to test it out.

"Shall we then?" Killian didn't wait for a response before launching himself off the ship and gracefully diving into the harbor as he'd done so many times before. David followed moments later, but his entrance was less of a dive and more an uncoordinated splash. He bit back a chuckle as the prince got his bearings, struggling for a moment with the lack of legs.

Once he righted himself, he observed, "You make that look so easy."

"Afraid it's second nature, mate."

"Yeah, I guess it would be." David tried flipping his fin a few times, to get used to the new motion; it reminded Killian of Emma's first trip underwater, but he, too, seemed to get the hang of it with time. "So, what now?"

"Whatever we want."

"Umm...show me around?"

"Absolutely." The spent the morning traveling around the various coves and capes around Storybrooke; in the time since they'd put away the Dark One, Killian had explored as far out as the spell around the town would allow and had discovered various dropoffs and caves below the surface that he hadn't had a chance to before, containing all kinds of flora and fauna. He had to slow down his swimming a bit, as David was still acclimating to the tail, but he didn't mind. In fact, there was something gratifying about it.

"You know, mate, this is kind of nice: for once, I'm not the one who's a fish out of water." (The fish jokes had never ceased.)

David was close behind him as they swam to the beach by the mines, where they were meeting their respective ladies for lunch. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, a bit defensive.

"Ever since I arrived in this realm, I've been the one surprised by your world and its technology at every turn. Yet, here we are, with the tables turned. It's a nice change of pace."

David nodded in agreement, unable to argue; it was pretty clear that, while he was enjoying himself, he still felt like the odd man out down here. "But don't forget: it was you who got us all out of Neverland alive, too. Don't sell yourself short, Hook; I'd be dead if not for you."

Despite all that had happened since then, Killian still wasn't used to the hero mantle they occasionally placed on him. So he deflected. "I think we've all saved each other's arses' enough to know where strengths and weaknesses lie."

"True, but you're still the one kicking my ass at swimming." They both chuckled at that and headed to the surface.

Emma and Snow were already waiting for them at Killian's favorite rock with Granny's bags in tow. He used his magic to grab a wave and guide him onto the rock with ease, and then did the same for David, who had floundered a few meters off. Once the water receded and David's tail was on display, it was Snow's turn to appreciate the view, as Emma had so often done (and continued to do). The princess was speechless at first, her eyes roaming her husband's form as a smile slowly crossed her face, until she apparently had no other reaction but to kiss him senseless, at which point he and Emma politely averted their gazes and exchanged a knowing look.

When the couple finally broke for air, they all dug into their meals; the guys didn't realize how famished they were until the scent of grilled cheese hit their noses.

As they ate, Emma jokingly inquired, "So, are you enjoying your date?" David nearly spit out his bite of french fry at the insinuation, but Killian found it amusing.

"Why yes, we are, Swan," he confirmed with a sideways grin. They discussed the adventure over lunch, and it was actually David who shared the most; it wasn't often the man gushed, and here he was telling of their outing with gusto. Until now, Killian had considered David something of a friend, but first and foremost Emma's father. However, that seemed to be changing.

Emma noticed it, too, and sent a warm smile his way.

* * *

The ladies headed back into town when the meal was done, with the direction to "be home by dinner," and the lads headed back into the sea. They spent the afternoon much as they had the morning, though with David now more comfortable with this form, Killian was able to teach him a few tricks. It turned out that Dave was pretty good at jumps and flips, once he got the hang of it.

At one point, they noticed a fishing net that seemed oddly familiar—Leroy's. Killian and Emma had been known to prank him on a small scale in the past, but he looked over at David with a mischievous glint in his eye. "What say we finally pay him back for the way he pulled me from the harbor?"

"Really? We wouldn't have found you otherwise," David reminded him.

"I know. But it's the principle of the thing."

"Alright, fine."

After a few hauls of rocks, Leroy apparently gave up on fishing for the day and headed in. Killian considered that a success, and David's hum of approval indicated he did, too.

The light overhead was gaining a reddish-orange tint, suggesting that the sun had begun its final descent and signaling that it was time for them to head in. As they headed back to the Jolly Roger, Killian noticed that David seemed lost in thought, though he spared an occasional sidelong glance at the pirate. "Penny for your thoughts, mate?"

David swallowed (well, as best he could while underwater). "You just seem really at home down here."

"Well, I am an aquatic creature, apparently," he agreed. But that didn't seem to be all. "What of it?"

"It's just...you've given up your home down here to be with Emma. You've done that twice now, actually."

"And I'd do it again in a heartbeat." As far as Emma was concerned, that hardly seemed a price to pay to be at her side—where he was truly at home.

"I know you would. But I didn't realize what that meant until now." They had both come to a halt as they reached the Roger. David looked Killian in the eye and firmly stated "Thank you."

Despite the cool water and his equally cool skin, he could feel the heat of blush take over (and desperately hoped his tail couldn't blush, too). He averted his gaze for a moment, before looking back up. "That's what we do for our True Loves, right?"

"That we do," David affirmed, and Killian was sure they shared the same look in their eyes as they thought of the women who had completely changed their lives.

A bit later—dried, clothed, and back on two legs—they were heading back into town, a comfortable silence around them as they walked back to the loft. Killian certainly hadn't intended on making a true friend out of David that day, but he was eternally grateful for their little adventure and the bond it had forged (or perhaps just made both of them realize).

As they turned onto the street where the Charmings lived, David finally spoke up. "Do you think I might be able to borrow that cuff again sometime? So maybe I could take Snow out?"

He could tell that was Dave's way of saying "I had fun"; _who am I to deny the man?_

"Absolutely."


End file.
